


Let's Start a Brand New Year (Kat Writes Holiday Fills 2017)

by TracyLorde



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Halloween, Holidays, New Years, One Shot Collection, Prompt Fill, Thanksgiving, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-01-09 05:07:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 20,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12269511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TracyLorde/pseuds/TracyLorde
Summary: I'll be posting my Holiday Prompt Fills here as I complete them. Get ready for overwhelming amounts of fluff. Happy Holidays y'all!





	1. I'd Just as Soon Kiss a Wookiee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holiday Prompt from @niylah: Could you write me 'hugged/kissed wrong person in a costume like my friend’s' for your holiday fills please? 
> 
> I tweaked this prompt to make it a bit cheekier, shall we say :) Happy Halloween!

Halloween fell on a Friday night Clarke’s sophomore year. Given her very full course load, she hadn’t been to a party since early September, but Wells had begged for her to join the festivities at his school. She definitely felt the need to blow off steam at this point in the semester, and Wells was apparently going to be wearing a Chewbacca costume due to some bet he was losing. There wasn’t a _chance_ Clarke was going to miss seeing that. She was feeling lazy in regards to a costume of her own, so after her last class on Friday she dressed all in black, grabbed a pair of cat ears at CVS, and drew some eyeliner “whiskers” on her face in the car on her way out of town.

She left her own campus at 5:00 and reached the address Wells had given her a few hours later. The off campus house was packed with costumed college kids when she arrived. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and the dancing had already started. Clarke grinned. After two months of spending all her free time in the library, it was exactly what she needed.

She grabbed a cup of punch from the tall guy by the door as she entered.

“Hey!” he yelled over the music, “I’m Miller. Who are you?”

“Clarke!” she yelled back.

“Oh, Wells’ friend!” he nodded, “Cool, glad you made it.”

“Yeah, do you know where—?” Clarke began, but before she’d finished she spied her friend from across the room, fully dressed as a shaggy brown walking carpet, his back turned to her. She made her way to the kitchen.

“Hey, hot stuff,” she called, and smacked him playfully on the ass as she glided by.

“Hey,” a deep voice that was most decidedly not Wells’ replied from inside the suit.

The next moment two things happened simultaneously: the not-Wells person removed their mask to reveal a very attractive freckle-faced man, and Clarke’s own face plunged from confusion to deep scarlet-cheeked embarrassment.

Clarke’s jaw dropped. There were no words, and there was nowhere to hide.

The tall man grinned down at her, running a hand through his dark curly hair, which stood on end in places from the static of the rubber mask. “If I had known wearing a Chewbacca costume would get me that kind of introduction I would have done this a long time ago.” He paused, chewing his lip in amusement. “Anyway, I’m Bellamy.”

“I thought—I thought you were Wells,” Clarke attempted to explain herself. “He told me he was going to be dressed as Chewy…sorry, I didn’t mean…Where is he?”

“He’s making a beer run right now,” Bellamy answered, still unable to keep from grinning. “He told me to keep an eye out for you I think—you’re Clarke, right?”

“Yeah, Clarke Griffin—hi,” Clarke extended her hand, and Bellamy accepted. His grasp was gentle, though his smile was anything but.

“So….you’re Wells’ roommate,” Clarke continued awkwardly, not sure how to begin or end this conversation.

“You gonna drink that?” Bellamy indicated the untouched solo cup she had been holding. “You look like you could use it.”

Clarke made a face at him, but took a sip anyway. He wasn’t wrong, it did help.

Bellamy smirked and raised his own beer to his lips. “So….you’re Wells’…Clarke.”

Clarke raised her eyebrows. “I’m not anybody’s anything, thanks. Wells and I are friends. Have been forever….hence my greeting.” Clarke tried very hard to keep from blushing again, but based on Bellamy’s expression she was pretty sure she hadn’t succeeded. “Anyway, why are you wearing that costume? Wells told me he was going as Chewbacca this year.”

Bellamy smirked. “Wells and I have a bet.”

Clarke snorted. “What’s the bet?”

It was Bellamy’s turn to blush. “Nothing.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but at that moment she saw Wells headed towards her, dressed as Han Solo and shouldering a case of beer. His handsome face broke into a grin the minute he saw her.

“So, I see you’ve met Bellamy,” Wells said cheerfully.

“Yeah, we’ve met.” Clarke continued obstinately, “So what’s this bet that I’m hearing about?”

“Nothing,” Bellamy repeated, and at the same time Wells replied, “Oh, just that I didn’t think he’d be able to pick up girls in that costume.”

Clarke couldn’t help from laughing, “That may have backfired a little.” 

Bellamy chuckled as he caught her eye. “Maybe just a little.”


	2. Have Fun Storming the Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween prompt from @montygreens featuring Madi :)

“I finished my broccoli, time for candy!” Madi crowed, showing Clarke her empty plate.

“I guess it is!” Clarke chuckled. “Alright, I’m going to clean up, you go get dressed…you have your bucket for candy?”

“It’s on the porch,” Madi called on her way up the stairs, “Let’s go, Mom!”

Clarke quickly tidied up the kitchen and followed Madi upstairs to help her change into her costume.

It was Madi’s first Halloween in their new neighborhood, and Clarke was determined to make it a memorable one. They had decked out the front porch in cobwebs, carved a whole family of pumpkins, and prepared festive cupcakes for Madi’s classmates. Most importantly, they had collaborated to create the perfect costumes. 

Madi’s favorite movie at the moment was The Princess Bride, and her favorite character was Inigo Montoya—she would reenact the fencing scenes for hours, much to Clarke’s amusement. Clarke found her a linen blouse, brown vest, and tiny leather belt that she wore over her favorite leggings. A plastic sword completed the look. Madi had requested that her mom dress as Princess Buttercup, so Clarke found herself a long sleeved red dress that Madi approved. She even, in true mom fashion, let Madi do her hair earlier that day. The braid was rather lopsided, but Clarke loved it.

Since the move several months earlier, Madi had made a few neighborhood friends. A girl in Madi’s second grade class, Ella, lived right next door. Ella’s parents—Lincoln and Octavia, both cops—seemed nice enough. Clarke got along very well with them, and Madi and Ella were practically joined at the hip when they were together.

Clarke had made tentative plans with Lincoln to take the girls trick or treating together, so she looked for him as they stepped outside into the crisp October air. Madi instantly smiled when she saw her friend waiting on the sidewalk in front of her house. Ella was wearing a floaty purple dress and sparkly butterfly wings, but instead of standing next to her parents she stood next to an unfamiliar man in a plaid shirt. Clarke frowned, trying to determine his identity as they approached. He was almost as tall as Lincoln, with glasses, dark curly hair and, she had to admit, a nice smile.

The stranger waved to Clarke as they approached. “Hey, you must be Clarke and Madi. I know you were probably expecting Lincoln, but he had a work emergency come up so Ella’s stuck with me for the night. I’m Octavia’s brother Bellamy.” He extended a hand and Clarke grasped it back.

“Oh, ok,” Clarke replied, taken a bit off guard but trying not to show it. She was always a bit wary around strangers, especially since adopting her daughter. “Hi, I’m Clarke Griffin, this is Madi.”

Bellamy grinned down at Madi, who was showing Ella her swordsmanship. “I like your costume, Madi.”

At this moment, Clarke heard her phone beep. She retrieved it from her pocket to read a text from Lincoln.

_Lincoln Next Door 10/31 6:09 PM_

_Hey Clarke, I got called in for a case and since the wife has to work too Ella’s with her uncle for the night. Just thought I’d let you know since we had plans. Have fun!_

Clarke replaced her phone and relaxed a little. Part of her knew it was silly to be so apprehensive. Another part of her also knew she would never cease to be fiercely protective of her daughter. And now, she thought, she was free to enjoy the company of Madi’s friend and her (unfairly attractive) uncle.

“We’re going to start now,” Madi stated matter of factly, and taking Ella’s hand walked ahead, leaving Clarke and Bellamy trailing them at a slight distance.

“Have fun storming the castle!” Clarke called in jest. Madi giggled and Clarke smiled appreciatively.

“Nice costume by the way, princess,” Bellamy commented as they waited for the girls to knock on the door of the first house on their route. “I feel a little underdressed, but this was very last minute, you must understand.”

“You’re forgiven,” Clarke chuckled, giving Bellamy a sly glance as she adjusted the flowing sleeves of her gown. “Besides, this was all Madi’s idea, I can’t take any credit.”

Bellamy chuckled. He had kind eyes and a cute dimple on his chin. Of course Octavia would have a brother even more attractive than she was. And of course he was great with kids. She considered flirting with him in the future, when the kids weren’t around. 

They made their rounds, the girls quickly filling their baskets with candy and growing tired of the growing chill in the air. Ella almost tripped over a tree root on their way home, and Bellamy swept her up into his arms before she could cry, her basket of loot dangling from his elbow.

“Mom,” Madi asked as they approached their house, “Can Ella come over tonight?”

“Yes please!” Ella chimed in, looked up at her uncle with wide green eyes that Clarke was fairly sure he could never say no to.

“Well, it’s not a school night…” Clarke considered, glancing at Bellamy and Ella, “So if it’s ok with Ella’s uncle, it’s ok with me.”

Bellamy caught Clarke’s eye, then grinned down at his niece. “I guess that’s that.”

“Ella and I want to watch Moana,” Madi declared, and Ella nodded. “So you and uncle Bellamy can do something else.”

Clarke chuckled. “Sure, Madi. That sounds fine.”

Clarke set Madi and Ella up in front of the television when they got home, after allowing each of them a reasonably sized ration of their candy.

“You want a drink?” she asked Bellamy, who followed her into the kitchen. “I have a red wine or beer…”

“Beer’s great.”

“Cool,” Clarke grabbed two bottles from the fridge, “That will pair nicely with the halloween candy.”

Bellamy laughed. “I always wondered if parents really did steal their kid’s candy.”

Clarke smirked. “Of course, we take our cut. It’s the best part of Halloween. Besides making the kids happy, of course.” She pulled Madi’s basket towards her. “Alright, good haul this year. Lots of chocolate and no Candy Corn bullshit.”

Bellamy glanced towards the living room to make sure the girls were fully engaged in their movie as he began to sort through Ella’s candy. “Hmmm, she’s got a lot of Reese’s here…trade you for a Snickers?”

Clarke laughed. “How did you know Reese’s were my favorite?”

Bellamy grinned and adjusted his glasses. “Just a hunch. I’ve got to make sure I save the Kit-Kats for O or she’ll never forgive me.”

They spent the next hour or two getting to know each other over a couple drinks, but finally had to admit it was getting late and the girls needed to be in bed. Madi was barely awake, and Ella was already asleep when the movie finished.

“You need help getting her upstairs?” Bellamy whispered, gesturing to Madi who’s eyelashes were fluttering with sleep, despite her will to stay awake.

“I’ll manage, but thanks,” Clarke replied sincerely, brushing her daughter’s hair back from her forehead.

Bellamy gently lifted his niece into his arms for the second time that night, and made his way towards the door. Turning back for a moment, he whispered. “Thanks for the beer. It was nice meeting you, Clarke.”

Clarke smiled. “Nice meeting you too. We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

A smile pulled at the corner of Bellamy’s mouth, but he simply replied, “As you wish.”


	3. Take My Scarf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holiday prompt from @isla1975 :)

Clarke was exhausted. She hadn’t slept more than four hours at a time in weeks. On top of that, the medical conference in Philadelphia had been even more draining than she’d anticipated. Thoughts of a warm shower and falling asleep in her own bed had been sustaining her for hours. Her feet were aching and it was only the chill in the Chicago air that kept her awake.

She had been waiting for her car for almost fifteen minutes now, though the driver had messaged to let her know he was close to the airport. She was practically asleep on her feet when she noticed him, the stranger sitting on a bench near her. He was wearing a very thin jacket, and periodically nodding off. His head would drop towards his chest, then he’d jerk back awake and shake his shoulders. Clarke watched him for a moment with clinical concern—he must be freezing. Unable to help herself, strode towards him and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hi. Hello, sorry.”

The stranger shook his head and rubbed his eyes. He looked about her age, with curly dark hair and freckles. “Can I help you?” he muttered, shivering slightly.

“I don’t think so,” Clarke replied matter of factly. “I was just wondering…do you want my scarf?”

He narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Your what?”

“My scarf,” Clarke repeated, pulling the thick flannel wrap off her shoulders and offering it to him. “You seem rather underdressed for this weather.”

He blinked, then shrugged and accepted her offer, tying the scarf around his neck. “Thanks.”

“Mind if I sit?” Clarke asked, gesturing to the open bench next to him, “I’m exhausted.”

As he glanced back up at her, the corner of his mouth twitched. “Sure, it’s all yours.”

Clarke collapsed onto the seat, setting her bag on the ground beside her. She rested her head in her hands for a brief moment. Then, pushing her hair back from her forehead, she sighed deeply and pulled her wool collar up around her neck.

“Long weekend?” her companion asked dryly.

“Something like that,” Clarke replied. “I was at a very tedious conference, my car is late, and all I want to do is go home and sleep. I’m about ready to start walking at this point.” She seemed to be rambling a bit, probably just because she was tired. It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that the stranger was much more attractive up close. “How about you? What’s your excuse for coming to Chicago with no warm clothing?”

He chuckled. “I was visiting my sister in Hawaii, and I didn’t plan for the cold snap on my way home.”

“Cold snap?” Clarke fired back in amusement, “It’s October. You must not have lived here long.”

He raised his eyebrows, clearly enjoying himself. “Only a few months, if you must know. I moved from Florida for a teaching job at UIC.”

“Well, that explains it.”

He chuckled again. “This must be the Chicago welcome they warned me about.” He extended a hand, and Clarke took it. “I’m Bellamy, by the way.”

“Clarke. I work at Northwestern Memorial.”

Bellamy’s face lit up in recognition. “Oh, that’s pretty close to UIC.”

Clarke laughed. “No, it’s not.”

He grinned back. “Well, clearly I need a tour guide. I’m at a complete loss in this cold and unfamiliar city.”

Before Clarke could reply, her car arrived. She stood up and grabbed her bag. “This is me.”

Bellamy’s face fell slightly. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Clarke.” He pulled the scarf from around his neck and handed it back to her. “Thanks.”

Clarke shook her head. “No way am I letting you freeze out here. Put that back on and get it. I’ll give you a quick tour of the city before we drop you off.”

Bellamy’s eyes lit up with surprise, and he grinned widely. “Really?”

Clarke chuckled. “Hurry up, professor. We’ve got our work cut out for us.”


	4. This Old Thing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus drabble for @isla1975 for the prompt “My scarf is far too big on you but you look too cute for me to ask you to take it off."

“What in the hell,” Bellamy demanded, staring down at his girlfriend, “are you wearing?”

Clarke wrinkled her nose in amusement, looking up at him. “What, you mean this old thing?” She adjusted the giant scarf that hung around her neck. It was so long the ends practically dragged on the ground, and knit from chunky brown and blue yarn.

“Yes, that old thing,” Bellamy replied, tugging on one of the oversized blue tassels. “Where did you even find that?”

“It was in the back of your closet,” Clarke smirked. “You like?”

“It looks ridiculous on you,” Bellamy teased, holding up the scarf by each end. “It’s gigantic, and I don’t know if you know this Clarke, but you’re tiny.”

“Whatever you say,” Clarke laughed. “Where did you get this scarf, anyway? It’s insane.”

“Miller. He got it for me as a joke three years ago when I had pneumonia.”

“Mmmmm, well Miller has great taste.” Clarke grabbed Bellamy’s hand. “Come on, we’re going to be late for the movie.”

“Are you really wearing that out?” Bellamy inquired, as Clarke dragged him towards the foyer.

“Of course, I think it suits me,” Clarke replied as she sat down and began to put on her boots. “Besides, I think the color brings out my eyes.”

Bellamy chuckled and grabbed his coat. “You always say that when you steal my clothes.”

Clarke shrugged. “What can I say? Your clothes all look great on me.” She stood up and headed for the front door, but Bellamy enveloped her in a bear hug before she could reach it.

“What’s this for?” Clarke asked, her words muffled in his chest.

“Nothing.” Bellamy bent down to kiss the tip of her nose. “You’re just cute, that’s all.”

“Not as cute as this scarf,” Clarke giggled.

Bellamy snorted. “Yeah, ok, Griffin. You’re more trouble than you’re worth some days, you know that?”

Clarke grinned up at him. “Now you’re the one being ridiculous.”

“Whatever you say, princess.”


	5. Incorrigible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween! Here's some domestic Bellarke fluff :)

“You almost ready in there?” Clarke called from the kitchen. It was Halloween, so she had traded in her scrubs for a black robes and witch’s hat. She was busy zipping Olivia into her baby bear costume and didn’t notice Bellamy emerge from their bedroom until he was at her elbow.

“Hey,” she glanced up at him, and immediately burst out laughing. “What the hell are you wearing?”

Bellamy looked down at her, genuinely confused. “What? I’m a Roman soldier. This is my costume.”

Clarke set the baby on her hip and smirked. “You’ve been a Roman soldier every year for the past twelve years. You don’t want to change it up a little? The kids are going to think you’re a dork.”

Bellamy chuckled and ruffled Olivia’s brown curls. “Nah, they think I’m cool. Besides,” he pressed a quick kiss to Clarke’s cheek, “This worked on you back in the day.”

“Yeah, well if I had known I was signing up for over a decade of the same costume—“

“You would have married me sooner, I know,” Bellamy teased, then turning to the stairs, he called, “Gus, you ready to go, bud?”

The tread of tiny feet was heard and Gus appeared in the doorway, wearing a fuzzy lion costume and a pouting expression.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Bellamy asked, kneeling so that he was at the five year old’s eye level. “I thought you liked this costume.”

Gus wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “No, I look like a baby. I want to look awesome, like you Dad.”

Bellamy bit back a smile, and Clarke managed to contain her laughter as she and Olivia joined them. “Come on, boys, we’re going to be late to meet Nate and Monty.”

“Well, we had better warn them we have a fierce lion with us tonight!” Bellamy growled in jest, and he tickled Gus until he giggled and jumped into his arms. ‘Maybe next year we’ll get you your own Roman soldier costume, bud.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Clarke murmured fondly to her husband, as he set Gus down and took the baby from her.

“If you didn’t think our offspring were going to be giant nerds too, that’s on you,” Bellamy replied in a mock whisper. “You may have been homecoming queen, but you also ran the debate team, you were captain of the science Olympiad, you won the spelling bee three years in a row—“

“Alright, alright, I’m just as culpable as you are, happy?”

Bellamy cradled Olivia to his chest as he grinned down at her and Gus. “Very.”


	6. A Little Flustered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern au, coffee shop, one night stand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt fill for @stardust-blake: the setting is coffee shop with a tiny twist: "oh no, my one night stand just walked into the place I work at and I wanted to ask for her/his number but s/he left before I could. Why I am this nervous to ask her/him out now??" Thanks! xx

Honestly, Bellamy thought, the odds of his one night stand wandering into the coffee shop where he worked would have been a lot lower if he worked farther from his apartment. But, there she was, standing at the end of the line, frowning down at her phone and completely oblivious to the fact that he was about to wait on her.

She looked great, even dressed in last night’s clothes, with smudged makeup and flat hair. He had left her in his apartment just an hour ago when he’d headed to work. She had been barely awake, laying facedown on the bed and giving non verbal responses to his requests that she lock the door behind her. She seemed like the kind of person who would lock up anyway, but he left a note reminding her just in case.

Bellamy had been kicking himself all morning for not getting her number last night. All he really knew about her was that her name was Clarke, and she was a second year med student. She was also really smart, funny, and she (apparently) really liked tequila, but that information seemed less useful in the case that he had to track her down later. He was desperately hoping for the chance at a real date with her next, and this might be his last chance to go for it before she walked out of his life forever.

He had about 30 seconds to decide what he was going to say before she reached the coffee bar when he heard his boss calling for him from the back.

Bellamy rolled his eyes and sighed. She couldn’t possibly want anything important, but he delegated the espresso bar to Harper and poked his head through the door to the kitchen.

Anya had her arms crossed over her chest and was staring at the open oven with a stony expression. “You need to stop letting Jasper bake off the muffins in the morning. He never sets a timer and they burn.”

Bellamy stepped forward and peered into the oven over her shoulder. There they were: a tray of blackened pumpkin muffins. Not exactly appetizing.

“Ok, I won’t let him bake any more,” Bellamy sighed, “but that means you have to let me train him on the coffee bar, because I can’t set up everything myself in the morning.”

Anya pursed her lips in consideration. Bellamy knew she wasn’t pleased but she had to admit he was right. “Think it over, boss!” he called on his way back to the front of the store, hoping to catch his one night stand still at the coffee bar.

He was too late. He saw Clarke disappearing out the door and his heart sank. She must have ordered just a regular coffee, something quick. The thought struck him, and it was now or never—

“I’m taking my break!” he called to Anya, and throwing his apron on the counter he made his way past the small line of customers and out the door.

She was almost at the end of the street when he stepped outside. 

“Hey! Clarke!”

She paused and turned back, a smile dancing on her face after she recognized him. “Wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon,” she called as he ran to catch up. Her voice was huskier than he remembered, probably due to the tequila. She took a sip of her coffee and waited.

“Oh,” he gestured to the storefront behind him. “I work here part time, when I’m not in school.”

“You work here?” she raised an eyebrow in surprise, “I didn’t see you.”

“I was in the back,” Bellamy continued, still slightly out of breath. “Did you get my note?”

“Yeah, I locked up for you, don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Bellamy lied. He had been so relieved to see her again, that he hadn’t thought about what he was going to say next.

“Did you chase me down in the street just to say hi?” she asked, still smiling and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“No—I wanted to get your number actually.”

A sly grin crossed her face. “I left it on that note at your apartment, since I noticed you forget to leave yours.”

He was blushing, suddenly, and couldn’t help but smile back. “Sorry about that. I was a little flustered earlier this morning.”

“Mmmm, you still are,” she teased. “When you get home, text me. I’m free Friday, if you want to hang out.”

“Sure, ok.”

“Ok.” With one last smile, she had turned and was gone, leaving Bellamy standing there with very little idea of how he’d secured a second date. His cheeks were still bright red when he got back to work, though he told himself it was just from the cold.  

“Hey, can you take my shift this Friday?” Jasper asked later, when Bellamy was getting off work.

“Sorry, Jasper,” Bellamy replied, pulling his coat over his shoulders, “I’ve got plans.”

“C’mon, watching the History Channel doesn’t count as plans,” Jasper groaned. “That’s what tivo is for.”

“I’ve got a date,” Bellamy replied, carefully avoiding eye contact as he grabbed his hat.

“Wow, is that why you’re smiling like a maniac?” Jasper asked, equal parts caustic and curious.

Bellamy realized he was indeed grinning from ear to ear, but he didn’t care in the slightest how he looked at the moment.


	7. Snowed in with You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU, snowed in, enemies-to-lovers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @head-and-heart requested snowed in Bellarke, "we're pretending we hate each other but actually we really don't."

“This is the absolute worst,” Clarke grumbled, checking the weather on her phone for the hundredth time that hour. “I can’t believe its snowing this hard already, they said the storm was supposed to hit tomorrow.”

“I would have counted on you to know meteorology isn’t an exact science,” replied Bellamy sarcastically from his position reclining on the couch. He was staring out the window, watching large fluffy flakes of snow fall. The driveway to the cabin they’d all gone in on together for Thanksgiving was already completely hidden under the initial snowfall, and it didn’t look likely to let up any time soon.

Clarke sighed and stirred the fire with a long metal poker from her seat across the room. “Yeah, I know that, I just was counting on the rest of the group to make it here before the storm hit. It’s not looking good, they’re calling for a winter weather advisory through Sunday afternoon…”

Both their phones beeped with an incoming text from Wells. We’re all just going to crash at Monty’s and Miller’s place, and see if it clears up later. Sorry we can’t make it, it’s just too far to drive now that the storm’s hit. Hope you both are making nice! Don’t do anything stupid like try to leave in this weather…

Clarke rolled her eyes. “As if we would!”

“I don’t know,” Bellamy shrugged, “You seem pretty unhappy about this whole situation…”

“Of course I’m not happy about it!” replied Clarke defensively. “We were supposed to all have a fun carefree weekend away, just drinking games and Murphy’s cooking and no family drama, and instead everyone else is having fun and I’m stuck here-“

“With your least favorite person,” Bellamy filled in dryly. Clarke made a face as if to protest, but gave up and sank down into her chair.

“You’re not my least favorite person,” she muttered, a few minutes later. “I just…thought this weekend would be different. I’ve been so busy lately, and I haven’t been able to hang out with anyone in ages, and all I wanted was to have fun for a few days and not feel guilty about it.”

“Sorry,” Bellamy replied, and he sounded like he meant it. “I know you’ve been busy lately. Everyone’s missed you, if that makes you feel any better.” He paused, but as soon as she made eye contact continued hurriedly, “You can still have fun this weekend, you know.”

“I guess I do have most of the booze with me,” Clarke remembered, eyeing the case by the door. “I can try to make a dent in that.”

“I hope you’re planning on sharing, because its going to get awfully boring being the only sober one.”

Clarke felt an odd sensation in the pit of her stomach, but instead of trying to figure out what it was, she hopped up to grab a bottle of tequila from the box she’d brought. “I was supposed to share this with Raven,” she said mournfully as she broke open the seal. “I guess you’ll have to do.”

It was Bellamy’s turn to roll his eyes now, but he sat up so that she could join him on the couch. “Didn’t know we were going to escalate to cuddling so fast,” he joked.

“Shut up,” Clarke replied, kicking him as she passed him the bottle.

Truth be told, Clarke knew why she was so upset about the way the weekend was going. She and Bellamy hadn’t spent a lot of time alone together since that weird night almost a year ago when they’d gotten a little too friendly at Jasper’s party. They’d been flirting furiously for a few weeks prior, and something about the music and the laughter that night had eliminated all Clarke’s natural defenses. She’d almost kissed him, but Murphy accidentally interrupted them. The truly embarrassing part was Bellamy had reacted by abruptly leaving the party immediately afterward. They’d never talked about it, Clarke writing it off as a stupid mistake on her part and awkwardness on his. They weren’t exactly friends anymore, though. They weren’t exactly anything.

Bellamy was and always had been very awkward. Clarke had no idea how he’d dated as many people as he had— Roma, Bree, and Gina just within the past year. He was such a dork, honestly, and would always rather watch the history channel or play video games with a few friends than go out. Secretly, Clarke thought that was one of his better qualities, though she never let on. Honestly though—he told dad jokes and she could always count on him to harass her if she used even the slightest historical anachronism to make a point. He really was the worst…but damn, he was attractive. Even now, dressed in baggy sweatpants and a thrift store sweater, she couldn’t deny he was nice to look at. Those curls, those freckles, the way his eyes lit up when he smiled. It was a pretty unfair advantage to offset his lack of social skills.

He was doing it right now, that smiling thing, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he poked her playfully with the tequila bottle. This might be a bad idea, Clarke thought, but there was no going anywhere now…

“Did you bring any food with you, or just booze?” Bellamy asked in a teasing tone. “Not complaining, this is great, but…we were meant to cook a meal tomorrow, and I’m pretty sure you’re still a lightweight.”

“Fuck off,” Clarke shot back. “I can handle myself.”

Bellamy flushed a little, which surprised Clarke. “Sorry,” she continued, sighing, “that was probably a little aggressive.”

“A little,” he agreed ruefully. “You tend to get a rather feisty when you drink…”

“You tend to get a little uptight when you don’t.”

Bellamy snorted derisively. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” Clarke replied fiercely. “Just—just worry about yourself. I’m fine.” She took another swig from the bottle to punctuate her point, however poorly.

They sat in silence for a moment, until Bellamy finally spoke. “Is this about Jasper’s party?”

Clarke glanced up at him, completely caught off guard. She hadn’t expected him to ever acknowledge the moment had occurred, but she supposed the tequila might have helped. “Yeah, I guess it is,” she admitted.

“So that is what this all has been about?” he continued, in a baffled tone, “you’ve been pissed at me for months because I didn’t kiss you when you were drunk?”

“I wasn’t drunk!” Clarke replied indignantly, “I wasn’t even tipsy!”

“You weren’t?” Bellamy replied skeptically. “Because you seemed pretty…loose.” He flushed. “Poor word choice, sorry…you just didn’t seem like your normal self that night.”

“I was having fun, Bellamy! I can have fun too, you know.”

He frowned. “Ok, sure.”

“Anyway, you were kind of a dick that night.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere. “I really thought you were wasted. You don’t party very much, and I guess I hadn’t seen you so relaxed before.” He shrugged and grabbed the bottle back from her. “If it’s any consolation, I really wanted to kiss you and now I feel like a complete idiot for misreading the situation.” He took a large swig and grimaced as he swallowed, though Clarke wasn’t sure it it was for the alcohol or his admission.

They sat quite still for another moment, Clarke taken aback at his complete transparancy, finally breaking the silence by bluntly asking, “Well, if you really wanted to kiss me, why didn’t you ever?”

“Are you serious, Clarke?” Bellamy laughed, eyebrows raised in amusement, “You barely gave me the time of day for months afterwards! Plus, you dated people, I dated people…”

“Yeah…I had a long term relationship, you had a flavor of the month club,” Clarke snapped, grabbing the bottle from him.

Bellamy bit back a smile. “You slut-shaming me, Griffin?”

Clarke couldn’t help but blush. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to come out like that. Forget it.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he said, still smirking.

“Whatever,” Clarke sighed, “Fine, I was mad at you for a long time, and it didn’t feel great to see you with a bunch of other people because…I actually like you and thought we had a connection for a minute there.” Her eyes widened in horror as she realized what she’d said. “Liked, liked, past tense!”

Bellamy just grinned.

“Shut up, shut up! It’s the tequila,” she concluded lamely, shoving the bottle at him.

Bellamy eyed the bottle. “We haven’t actually had that much, Clarke.”

“I know,” she replied miserably, burying her head in her hands. “Fine, I still like you, and now I’ve said it so I can die of awkwardness.”

Bellamy chuckled. She heard the clink of glass against the hard wood of the floor, and looked up to see that he had set the tequila down and was looking at her with a curious expression. “Did it ever occur to you, Clarke, that I still like you too?”

Well, it was now or never, Clarke thought. She leaned forward. He did too, meeting her halfway. It was a good kiss. One of the better kisses she’d had lately, for sure. Possibly ever. It was broken when an involuntary laugh slipped from her. She was suddenly overcome by the humor of the situation. She couldn’t stop laughing, till the tears came.

Bellamy pulled back, his face flushed with amusement. “What, may I ask, is so funny?”

“Nothing,” Clarke sighed, wiping the the tears from her eyes. “I just…didn’t see this coming. I thought this weekend was going to end in one of us murdering the other.”

Bellamy chuckled, and leaned forward to kiss her again. “There’s still time for that, Griffin. Let’s just see what happens next.”


	8. Baby Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke can't stand Bellamy, but for the sake of their mutual friends she tries to get along with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my love @flawlessbanshee

“This really is a great party, Clarke,” Raven said, surveying the room. “I can’t believe you pulled it off without Wells finding out!”

“It helped that I’ve been pretty distracted lately,” Wells replied in a teasing tone, running a hand affectionately over Raven’s hair, which cascaded down her back.

Raven grinned back up at him. “Yeah, that helped.” Then, turning back to Clarke, “Why are you wearing that face? You look like you just ate a lemon.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Nothing, just something Bellamy said earlier about the decorations. I think he was trying to get a reaction out of me.”

“Clearly it didn’t work at all,” Raven fake-whispered into her wine glass.

“You know, you didn’t actually have to come to the party if all you were going to do was argue with Bellamy,” Wells pointed out, chuckling at his girlfriend’s exaggerated expression.

Clarke scowled. “That’s not all I’m going to do, he’s just being particularly insufferable tonight.” She glanced over to where Bellamy was leaning against the wall across the room, chatting with Harper.

Wells sighed. “You know, it would be a lot easier on us all if you could just try getting along.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to ruin your night,” Clarke apologized, gently laying an arm on Wells’ arm.

Raven snorted. “Don’t give yourself that much credit. We’ve got a private room, thanks to you. Not to mention copious amounts of booze, food, and our very own Jasper doing terrible impressions. What more could Wells possibly want in a birthday?”

Clarke grinned at the happy couple. “Alright, alright. I know that Bellamy is important to you, Wells, I’ll try to do better…he just gets under my skin sometimes.”

“I know, but there are plenty of other people here. Try to have a good time,” Wells urged gently.

“You’re right. I will. Now I’m going to make my rounds, make sure you try the crab puffs, they’re amazing!” With a parting wave, Clarke made her way over to the bar where Miller and Monty were chatting.  

“You two enjoying yourselves?”

“Can’t turn off the hostess act, huh?” a cool voice from behind her interrupted before either Miller or Monty could reply.

“Bellamy.” Clarke barely acknowledged the dark haired man at her elbow.

“Princess.”

“Asshole.” Clarke rolled her eyes. “By the way, I’m literally hosting the party, Bellamy.”

“And you’re doing a great job,” he replied cheerfully. “Except they’re almost out of shrimp, I don’t think you planned for Murphy’s eating habits.”

Clarke, Monty, and Miller glanced over to where Bellamy was gesturing.

“Wow, I think he took four in one bite that time.” Monty sounded mildly impressed. He glanced at his boyfriend.

“I think we’re going to go wish Wells happy birthday,” Miller said, grabbing Monty’s hand. “Great party, Clarke.”

“Yes, great party.”

“Any other criticism?” Clarke immediately turned to Bellamy, who was just ordering from the bartender.

“Nope,” Bellamy replied in a even tone, handing her a glass of wine. “But you look like you could use a drink.”

He wasn’t wrong, and he’d actually handed Clarke her drink of choice. With a glare, she accepted the glass of wine and took a sip. She had to admit that Bellamy cleaned up pretty well. She hadn’t seen him in a suit before, and it definitely worked for him. She wasn’t sure if that annoyed her further or not. She’d have to think on it. She sighed, and took another sip.

“That’s better,” Bellamy mused, glancing out over the crowd. “It really is a very nice party, Clarke. And it’s very Wells—intimate and fun, with a classic flair. You did a good job.”

“I’ve been friends with Wells for our entire lives, so of course I can throw him a party he’d like,” Clarke snapped.

Bellamy turned back towards her, eyebrows raised. Clarke flushed.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why this is stressing me out so much.”

“I might,” Bellamy replied, and took a sip of his drink.

“How on earth would you know?” Clarke asked, trying for once to keep the exasperation from her voice.

“Because,” Bellamy replied lightly, keeping his eyes averted, “You feel like you’ve started to lose Wells to Raven, and you really like Raven, but it still hurts to know that it’s never going to be the same as it was when you were kids.”

“I’m not in love with Wells, Bellamy.”

“I know,” Bellamy laughed, looking over at her finally, “I know that, Clarke. But he clearly means as much to you as a brother.”

Clarke felt a twinge that he was right. “What gave you all this insight all of a sudden?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“I remember how I felt the first time Octavia started dating someone seriously, that’s all. Lincoln was her first real boyfriend, and I really liked him, so it sucked that I felt like such an asshole around them. I had to figure that out.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

“It’ll be ok,” Bellamy said reassuringly, knocking her elbow gently with his own. “They can’t tell why you’re stressed, they’re too happy.”

Clarke smiled finally, and relief flooded over her. “You’re right, I guess.”

“Holy shit!” Bellamy checked his watch with an exaggerated motion.

“What’s wrong?” Clarke asked, suddenly concerned.

He glanced up with mock surprise. “I think I just made it 15 seconds without annoying you!”

Clarke rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, why do you think we have such a problem with that?”

“I don’t know, but I wish we didn’t.”

“Why’s that?”

He shrugged and took a sip of his drink. “I like talking with you, that’s all.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes in consideration. “Well…I don’t hate talking with you right now, I guess.”

Bellamy bit back a smile. “You think we can try to beat our 15 second record?”

Clarke glanced over to where Wells and Raven were standing. Wells raised his glass to her. Clarke pursed her lips. “I guess we can try for 30 seconds.”

“Good,” Bellamy smirked. “Baby steps.”


	9. Much Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fake dating Thanksgiving fluff :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the lovely @parapluiepliant

Bellamy frowned at his phone. Clarke was calling him. Clarke never used her phone as a phone, she always texted. They hadn’t really seen much of each other lately either…since she and her ex had gotten together, actually. Something must be up.

“Hey, Clarke, everything ok?” he answered the call, unable to imagine what reason Clarke had to be calling him.

“Hi Bellamy,” Clarke said cheerfully, “sorry to bother you, but I need to borrow your kitchen on Thursday if I can.”

Bellamy ran a hand through his hair, quite confused. “My kitchen?”

“And you,” Clarke added

“You need to borrow me and my kitchen on Thanksgiving?” Bellamy stood up and began to pace. “Clarke, what’s going on?”

Clarke sighed heavily on the other end of the line. “I told my mom I couldn’t come home for Thanksgiving and she asked why so I told her I was spending the day with you.”

“Ok, but why would you be spending Thanksgiving with me?” Bellamy puzzled.

“I told her we were dating.” 

“You told your mom we were dating?”

“Are you going to repeat everything I say?”

“Clarke, come on, you have to concede that this is a little unexpected from my perspective.”

“Ok, fine,” Clarke admitted. “Yes, I told her we were dating, and now she wants to Skype with us so I’m screwed unless you help me out.”

“Ok, weirdo. Why didn’t you ask me before you made up that story for your mom?”

“I wasn’t thinking, obviously.” Clarke replied. “They’re just really busy right now, my mom and Marcus, and I’m going to see them soon at Christmas, and things at work are kind of crazy so I didn’t want to take the time off…”

“Clarke, Clarke, it’s fine,” Bellamy reassured her. “I guess teasing you is as good a use of my time on Thanksgiving as anything else.”

“I guess it is.” Clarke paused. “You sure this is ok? I don’t want to ruin your plans, and I know I kind of sprung this on you…”

“You absolutely sprung it on me,” Bellamy agreed. “But it’s fine, really. Come over around noon on Thursday and we can started.”

“You’re the best. Thanks, Bellamy.” Clarke’s relief was audible.

“Don’t forget your apron,” he teased.

“You know I don’t have one,” Clarke replied, and hung up.

She arrived at his place exactly on time Thanksgiving day, carrying a six pack and a bag of potato chips “just in case.”

“This isn’t exactly what I was expecting, Bellamy,” Clarke frowned as she looked around the bare countertops of his familiar kitchen. “Why aren’t you elbow deep in food prep right now? And where’s Octavia?”

“O is spending the holiday with her girlfriend’s family,” Bellamy replied, “So I wasn’t planning on cooking anything special until you invited yourself over.”

“Niylah’s family didn’t invite you to join?” Clarke asked, almost indignantly.

“Relax, they did,” Bellamy replied casually as he put the beer in the fridge, “but it’s their first holiday as a couple and I thought I’d give Octavia some space.”

“That doesn’t sound like you,” Clarke replied, then quickly added, “So you don’t have a turkey or anything? What are we going to cook? I have to convince my mom this is real.”

Bellamy shrugged. “I figured we could go shopping now. No reason for me to bankroll this whole thing, right?”

“Ok, that’s fair,” Clarke admitted. “I guess I just assumed you had a plan already. That’s on me. But it’s Thanksgiving day, Bellamy…the shelves are going to be practically empty, even if the stores are open.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Bellamy replied, grabbing his keys from a bowl on the kitchen table. “Let’s go, Griffin.”

They found an open supermarket a few miles away, but as Clarke predicted the shelves were pretty bare. The only turkey left was a huge 27 pound bird, which was much more than they needed.

“So….no turkey, then.” Bellamy glanced at Clarke, trying to gauge whether she was disappointed or not. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Turkey tastes like napkins,” Clarke rejoined. “Let’s just make something else.”

Bellamy smirked. “What do you want to make?”

“I don’t care,” Clarke shrugged, gesturing toward the freezer section. “Mac and cheese, pizza, whatever you want.”

“Absolutely not,” Bellamy replied firmly and steered her towards the produce.

“What’s wrong with pizza?” Clarke asked indignantly.

“Nothing, we can make pizza, but we’re making it from scratch.”

“Of course we are,” Clarke grumbled, as Bellamy got some fresh basil, garlic, and a bell pepper.

“I don’t want your mom thinking your boyfriend can’t cook.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “We’re not actually dating, Bellamy, does it matter what she thinks of your cooking?”

Bellamy flat out ignored her. “Can you get a small can of crushed tomatoes, and a bottle of olive oil? I’m almost out. I’ll meet you in the dairy section.”

Clarke found him debating between two brands of fresh mozzarella a few minutes later. “You’re overthinking this. That one.” She threw one of the containers into the basket with her items.

“Fine, fine. Ready to go?”

Clarke frowned. “We didn’t get a crust.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes. “We’re not going to buy a crust, Clarke. We’re going to make it.”

“We?”

“Yeah, I’ll show you, it’s not that hard.”

“I’m surprised you’re not making the cheese from scratch too,” muttered Clarke.

Bellamy just chuckled and led the way to the checkout.

Back in Bellamy’s kitchen, he had started work on the dough and Clarke, under his watchful eye, chopped the garlic and got the sauce prepped.

“You’re actually not half bad at this, Clarke.”

“I can follow explicit instructions, thank you very much.”

Clarke was expecting her mom to call around 4:00, and they were making good time. Now they just waited for the dough to rise. Clarke congratulated herself for the foresight to bring a snack.

“By the way, this is a lot of work for something you can just order for like ten bucks,” she commented, grabbing them each a beer from the fridge.

“It’s going to be amazing, you’ll see, then you’ll be begging me to make you pizza every week,” Bellamy promised, accepting the bottle she handed him.

“Maybe.” Clarke grinned. “Anyway, I owe you, Bellamy. Thanks for letting me take over your entire holiday. Actually,” she considered, taking a sip of her drink, “You might owe me, more. What were you going to be doing all day today, while everyone else was celebrating?”

Bellamy blushed. “I don’t know, watch a little tv and work on grading papers, probably.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “So boring. This is better.”

He grinned. “This is much better.”

It really was. Clarke was still a lot of fun to be with, and even though they hadn’t spent a lot of time together lately it didn’t feel as if they’d grown apart at all. Clarke seemed to be enjoying herself too. She was going through his kitchen cabinets and making fun of all the assorted tools that she had never seen before.

“What’s this? A citrus zester? What do you need to zest citrus for?”

“Remind me to make you my blueberry muffins some time.”

“Maybe we should make those next.“

“You going to be compensating me for my services, Griffin?”

Clarke shot him a wicked grin. “Shut up, you love it.”

“I do,” he admitted. “I’ve missed you lately, Clarke, honestly.”

Clarke didn’t reply, just abruptly hugged him, burrowing her face into his chest. He was taken off guard for a moment, but quickly recovered and wrapped his arms round her tight.

“You ok?” he murmured into her hair. He hadn’t seen her this vulnerable…ever.

“Yeah, I’m ok,” she whispered back. “Thanks.”

“Clarke, you know that—“

He was cut off by a beeping ring from Clarke’s laptop. She’d left it open on the kitchen table, waiting for her mom to call. They were both quite startled, Clarke pulling back from him and Bellamy laughing nervously. He hated to admit it, but in the past hour he’d actually forgotten that the whole basis of them spending the holiday together was a facade for her parents. He’d started to believe it was real. He wondered if she had too.

Clarke took a deep breath, then she reached over and squeezed his hand. “Thanks again for doing this.”

“No problem,” he said, and meant it.

“Come on,” she quickly seated herself in a chair facing the computer and indicated for Bellamy to do the same.

He followed, and tentatively placed an arm round the back of her chair. “This ok?”

She glanced up at him before reaching forward to pick up the call, smiling widely. “Perfect.”


	10. Codeine and Christmas Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exes, hurt/comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for @jasperjoordan :)

Clarke hadn’t exactly been looking forward to seeing one half of the Blake siblings that night, but when she reached their house to find a text from Octavia saying that she and Niylah were running late, she was pretty irritated. Of course she’d be left alone with her ex-boyfriend when Octavia had promised her that wouldn't happen. She shouldn't have agreed to come and decorate the tree in the first place. It was guaranteed to be weird. What had she been thinking?

Clarke half considered leaving and texting Octavia some excuse later, when she saw him. Bellamy. He was slumped against the front stoop, head bent forward, and something looked…off. It was freezing outside, and unless he was locked out, there was no reason for him to be sitting in the cold. Clarke’s curiosity and good nature got the better of her. She got out of the car. 

She approached him slowly, unsure how he would react when he saw her. It had been about six months since they broke up, and it hadn't exactly been easy for either of them. Clarke had been too busy with her internship and Bellamy with his dissertation for a serious relationship, and by the time they’d realized that it had somehow become serious. After several “just this once” hookups over the course of a few weeks, she’d realized they needed to spend some time apart in order to move on. Now, his current vulnerable position tugged at her heart, reminding her that the last time she’d seen him he’d been leaving her apartment to give her space, at her request.

There was a ladder leaning against the front of the house, and a box of Christmas lights beside the front stoop. Bellamy must have been decorating. She was close enough to see that he was sitting strangely, one arm crossed stiffly over his chest as he cradled it with the other hand.

“Bellamy?”

His raised his head slowly, taking a moment to focus and when he recognized her he frowned. Clarke sighed. Octavia must not have told him she was coming, and she should have known that. Oh well. She was here now, and Bellamy was clearly in some sort of situation.

“What are you doing here, Clarke?” he asked, a little gruffly but not unkind. 

“I was supposed to meet Octavia to help trim the tree, but she’s running late apparently. She must not have told you. What are you doing? Why are you sitting outside? Is your arm ok?”

“She told me, I just…forgot for a minute.” He frowned up at her, and his manner was strange. “What time is it?”

“Four o’clock.” Clarke’s small amount of patience was wearing thin. “What happened, Bellamy?”

“It’s nothing.” Bellamy cleared his throat and looked down as if guilty of something. “I was hanging the lights and…I kind of fell off the ladder.”

“What the fuck?” Clarke knelt down so that she was at his eye level. “Bellamy, are you alright?”

“It’s not a big deal,” he shrugged, avoiding her stare. “ I just needed to catch my breath for a second before I go inside.”

Clarke took his chin lightly in her hands and tipped it up towards her. She could see his pupils were slightly blown out, even in the low light of the winter afternoon. She sighed. “No, what you need to do is go to the hospital. Right now, come on. I’m driving you.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes, “I’m fine, Clarke, its nothing.”

“Ok,” Clarke snapped, and stood up, crossing her arms. “If it’s nothing, stand up and go inside. It’s ridiculously cold, you shouldn't be sitting out even if you are fine.”

Bellamy sighed in exasperation, and attempted to push himself up from his seated position. He ended up giving up halfway, biting his lip in pain and clutching his right shoulder with his left hand. 

Clarke’s annoyance quickly turned back to concern. “How far up the ladder were you when fell?”

“I don’t know, a few feet?”

Clarke exhaled, trying to keep the frustration from her voice. “I doubt it. You landed squarely on your left shoulder, didn't you? How bad is the pain, on a scale of 1 to 10?”

“I don’t know,” he grunted, “that’s a dumb scale.”

Clarke bit back an exasperated smile. It was a very Bellamy response. “Ok, well, we’re going to get you to the E.R. and they can take a better look at you there.” She crouched and offered her hand to Bellamy, and he took hold of her arm with his good side. 

In a moment, he was on his feet and Clarke had slid her own shoulder under his right armpit to help him to the car. She’d forgotten exactly how tall he was. 

“What about O?” he muttered as she helped him buckle his seatbelt, clearly trying to distract himself from the awkwardness of the situation.

“That’s what cell phones are for, Bell,” Clarke replied brusquely, calling him by his nickname without thinking. She bit her lip and walked to her side of the car, hoping he hadn't noticed. 

The drive was silent. Clarke glanced over every few moments to make sure that he hadn't passed out or fallen asleep.

“I’m fine, Clarke,” he commented the fifth time she glanced over at him. 

“Sure, ok, you were clearly in control of the situation back there. I’m in work mode at this point, just let me do my job.”

“Fine. But please don’t freak Octavia out. I’ll be the one to text her when we get there.”

“Fine.” Clarke agreed. 

She got him admitted straight away, of course. Jackson was on duty, fortunately, so he helped her get the x-rays taken. It turned out Bellamy had seriously bruised his shoulder, as Clarke predicted, as well as giving himself a fairly severe concussion. Clarke somehow refrained from saying “I told you so,” through this entire discussion, which she hoped Bellamy appreciated. 

“Clarke will drive you home,” Jackson finished. “Make sure you take those painkillers as needed, and stay away from screens for the next few days until symptoms subside. And under no circumstances are you to try and lift anything….maybe leave the rest of the decorating to someone else?”

Bellamy nodded, wincing at the feeling in his head as he did so, and glanced up at Clarke. “You happy now?”

“Extremely,” Clarke replied sarcastically. “Come on, let’s go.”

Octavia called Clarke in a panic on their way to the car, since Bellamy’s phone battery had died after he’d texted her. Clarke reassured Octavia her brother was alright, and Octavia promised to meet them at the house. Clarke made her swear she wouldn't stress him out, only make him feel the appropriate amount of guilt for putting himself in such a precarious position. Bellamy just rolled his eyes at that. 

On the way back, he surprised her with an apology. 

“I’m sorry I was such a pain. You were right. I’ve been as ass today.”

Clarke smirked and glanced over at him. “It’s ok, you can blame the head injury.”

Bellamy chuckled, and Clarke’s face broke into a smile. Hearing him laugh after so long brought back a flood of memories. The reasons they'd gotten together in the first place, reasons she’d been so happy with him. Reasons that she’d missed him since the break up. He sure was an idiot sometimes, but she’d definitely felt his absence lately.

“I know Octavia loves the holidays, Bellamy, but next time will you just ask someone for help before you climb up on that rickety ladder?”

“It wasn't just for Octavia,” Bellamy muttered, staring out the passenger side window. 

“What are you talking about?”

“It wasn't just for Octavia,” he repeated a little more clearly. “I was trying to have it ready before you came over.”

“What? Why?” Clarke pulled into the Blake driveway and turned to Bellamy, utterly bewildered. He continued to stare out the passenger window.

“I just knew it wasn't going to be easy for you to be here today, and I know the holidays are a tough time for you since your dad and everything…I wanted to make it festive, I don't know.”

Clarke was stunned. He was actually blushing a little bit. She had not expected that, but nothing today so far as gone as expected. 

“That’s really…nice, Bellamy.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“I honestly didn’t think you wanted to see me ever again, after the way we left things.”

He glanced over at her. “Clarke, that’s ridiculous.”

“It really isn’t. I mean, it’s been hard for me, not having you around, but I didn’t think you felt the same way.” 

Bellamy’s eyes were locked on her face. “Of course it was hard for me too, Clarke.”

“If you say so. You know,” Clarke admitted, “I almost drove away when I realized Octavia wasn't here yet, but I saw you sitting outside and I got worried…”

A smile played on his lips. “Worried?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Bellamy. Don’t be a moron. We may not be together anymore, but you still mean a lot to me. I’ve already admitted as much.”

Bellamy’s face was slowly overtaken by a grin. “Wow, don’t get all sappy on me, Griffin. It’s not Christmas yet.”

“Shut up!” Clarke hit him on the shoulder with her mittened hand.

“Careful, I’m injured!” he mimed being hurt.

“It’s the other shoulder, idiot,” Clarke replied and turned off the car. “Come on, let’s get you inside before Octavia gets back.”

Octavia arrived just as they reached the door, the beat up Camry she shared with her brother squealing to a halt in the driveway. She didn't waste a second rushing towards them, Niylah close on her heels, both women wearing concern on their faces. 

“What the hell, Bellamy?” Octavia spat, getting right in her brother’s face as Clarke gently took Bellamy’s keys to let them all in the house. 

“I’m fine, O,” he muttered, wincing and stumbling a little as the screen door almost closed on him. 

“He’s fine, but he does need some help for the next few days,” Clarke informed them, helping to guide Bellamy through the doorway.

She and Octavia had him settled on the couch immediately. Niylah went to make some tea in the kitchen, and Octavia began covering her brother in blankets as he smirked up at her.

Clarke made sure Bellamy had his first round of painkillers, then stepped back and took in her surroundings. The Blake house looked very much the same, except for the bare Christmas tree sitting just by the window. It was too large for the room but it made it smell like pine. Octavia had always insisted on getting a full sized tree, Clarke remembered, even though the living room real estate was tight. 

“I can't believe you were such an idiot,” Octavia groaned, taking in the extent of her brother’s injuries for the first time as she threw the last blanket over his feet.

“I can,” Clarke sighed ruefully.

“You couldn't have waited an hour till I got home?” Octavia asked, crossing her arms and glancing at Clarke for support.

Bellamy’s eyelashes fluttered, heavy with exhaustion. Clarke could see the painkillers at work. “I’ll wait next time,” he murmured.

“I’m locking those Christmas decorations up next year,” Octavia muttered. “You’re not to get them out until you have help.” Glancing over to the box of Christmas ornaments on the floor, she asked, “Clarke, you still want to stay and help us decorate?”

Clarke glanced from one Blake sibling to the other. Bellamy’s eyes opened slightly and he nodded at her almost imperceptibly. 

“Sure, Octavia, I’ll stay. You’re going to need help making sure he doesn't get up at some point, I’m sure.”

“You’re all smothering me,” Bellamy said, but they could tell he was almost enjoying himself.

Octavia smiled and finally seemed relieved. “Good. I’m gonna go order takeout. You want Garlic Chicken, Clarke?”

Clarke grinned. “China Garden? Sounds good!”

She was surprised to feel Bellamy’s touch and looked down to see he’d grabbed her hand. Eyes still closed, he was leaning back against the couch, but his grasp on her fingers was firm. She took a seat next to him, gingerly holding his good hand in hers. 

“It’s still ok for me to stay, right?”

She could swear that the corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile for a mere second. 

“It’s still ok,” he mumbled. “Sorry about all this.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and settled in next to him, squeezing his hand. “Will you just shut up and get some rest, Bell?”

He smiled and leaned into her. “Sure, whatever you say.”


	11. Secret Santa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teacher!Bellarke, "whoops, I accidentally slept with my new boss."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt from @bellamyblake-kru

Bellamy had to admit that it was pretty funny. First, he met (and slept with) the most beautiful, amazing woman he’d ever seen. Then, two days later, he started his new job and realized she was his boss. Finally, he drew her name in the Secret Santa raffle. It was just too perfect. Cruel, but perfect.

He had thought about trying to switch names with someone, but Murphy already had his suspicions about his relationship with Clarke and he didn’t want to give him more fuel for speculation.

They’d forgone any intimate contact since realizing their professional relationship to each other, though Bellamy couldn’t deny he’d thought about it fairly often. They hadn’t spoken of it, either, since the first day when they’d mutually acknowledged the awkwardness of the situation and resolved to keep their personal distance from each other. Technically, as Head Teacher, Clarke wasn’t his direct supervisor, since he answered right to Principal Jaha. But that technicality wouldn’t prevent widespread scandal if the truth got out. 

Bellamy did, however, feel fairly confident that no one could tell that their relationship had ever been anything but professional. They had weekly staff meetings with the rest of the teachers, and no one but Murphy had ever made a snide comment. Murphy was surprisingly astute sometimes, but in this case he had nothing to go off of, so Bellamy tried not to worry about it.

The trouble now was the gift. Bellamy had to figure out what to get Clarke that wouldn’t make people think twice. Something impersonal would do the trick…easy enough. Unfortunately for the task at hand, Bellamy wasn’t exactly immune to her charms. He may or may not have thought about the relationship developing into something more in future, however unlikely that seemed. Truth be told, he spent a little too much time agonizing over what to buy her. In the end, he purchased a cashmere scarf—something nice, but not too personal. He did get the shade of blue that would match her eyes perfectly, but that went without saying.

The gifts were exchanged at the staff Christmas party, which was quite a festive occasion thanks to Monty’s homemade punch. It did appear Bellamy’s Secret Santa had neglected to follow through, but other than that he was having a fine time. He and Clarke were careful to great each other cooly, then spend the majority of the party on opposite sides of the room as though they’d never fucked in the backseat of his car. She accepted his gift with a graceful smile, and he tried not to blush at her pleased expression.

The food had started to run out, it was growing late, and most of the staff were drunk. Bellamy decided to skip the round of tipsy toasts and have one last drink in his classroom while he packed up for the holiday break.

He was nearly done when he heard a noise at his office door and glanced up from his seat at the desk. It was Clarke, leaning against the doorframe.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course!” 

She approached the desk slowly, and he noticed she was wearing his gift. She had the scarf draped like a shawl over her shoulders, partially obscuring the stunning navy dress she’d worn to the party.

“I was a little chilly, so…” she adjusted the fabric.

“Glad you like it,” he replied, suddenly worried that they were about to be disturbed. “Good party, by the way.”

“Great party,” she corrected him, grinning slyly.

“Are you just here to gloat?” he teased, “I know that I saw we should have gone with a DJ, but the band was a nice touch. If I had known the budget we were working with—what’s that?”

Clarke had produced a small parcel from under her scarf. It was pretty clearly a book, wrapped in brown paper and tied up with a piece of red string. She smiled and handed it to him.

“Your Secret Santa gift.”

“It was you?” Bellamy asked. “I thought for sure it was Murphy and he just forgot, or something.”

“Nope, it was me.” Clarke took a seat on a desk in the front row. “Open it.”

Bellamy slowly untied the parcel, half watching Clarke while he did so. She honestly looked as if she was the one receiving a gift, her eyes lit up with childlike anticipation. He ripped back the paper to reveal a worn leather bound volume—Homer’s Odyssey.

“It’s the Pope translation,” Bellamy said in an awed tone. “Extremely rare, how did you find this?”

“I have my sources,” Clarke shrugged. “You like it?”

“I…yeah, of course I do. I love it.” He looked up at her in confusion. “How did you know?”

“Just had a hunch you might like it. You’re not as complicated as you think you are, Bellamy Blake.”

He laughed. “I guess I’m not. I…don’t know how to repay you for this, honestly.”

“Wow, you’ve really missed the whole point of this whole gift giving thing.”

“I mean, all I got you was a lousy scarf—”

“Lovely scarf,” Clarke interjected.

“Sure, but at the end of the day it’s a scarf. This is…incredible.”

“Well, I do pride myself on my gift giving skills.” Clarke stood up and took a step towards him.

Bellamy swallowed and leaned back in his chair. He wasn’t sure exactly where this was going.

Clarke raised an eyebrow. “I take it you haven’t heard the news?”

“You mean about Murphy and Emori? I thought it was more common knowledge than news at this point.”

Clarke pursed her lips and took a step nearer. “Not that. My news.”

Bellamy shook his head. “No, sorry, I haven’t heard.”

“I’ve been given a promotion to Vice Principal at Arcadia High downtown,” she replied, moving to his side and leaning back against his desk.

“Wow, that’s amazing, Clarke!” Bellamy replied, nervously playing with his tie. “Congratulations.”

She smiled, but he had the sense there was still something she wasn’t telling him. “Thanks.”

“When do you start?”

“Well, it was supposed to be next year, but the current vice principal is leaving earlier than expected, so I’ll be transferring in January.”

Bellamy felt his face fall, but he didn’t bother trying to hide his disappointment. “Well, you’ll be missed here, that’s for sure.”

Clarke nodded. “I’ll miss it here, too.” She paused, tapping her fingers against the underside of the desk. “You know, I’ll be in a separate district there, so hypothetically if I wanted to see someone from another school, there would be no reason I couldn’t.”

Bellamy’s heart leapt in his chest. He stared at her, still not quite sure he’d gotten her intended meaning.

Clarke rolled her eyes. “I keep forgetting you teach history, not logic. I’ll spell it out for you. Any chance we could go on a real date sometime?”

In lieu of a verbal answer, Bellamy jumped from his chair and wrapped his arms round her, capturing her in a passionate kiss. Clarke laughed as he boosted her onto the desk and ran a hand down her back, kissing her all the while.

After a moment, he pulled back and caught his breath. Clarke was smiling, her hands still tangled in his hair.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she grinned.


	12. First Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> canonverse, first kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @frecklessbellamy requested Bellarke playing in the snow!

Clarke was familiar with the phenomenon of snow. She understood the science behind it. She even knew that before the death wave, it had been associated with the winter season, good luck, and holiday cheer. But nothing could have prepared her for the way that it would make her feel as she saw the flakes fall before her eyes—as if she herself was light and floating. 

It had begun to snow overnight, and the Clarke awoke to a few inches of white powder covering everything in sight. Jasper was in process of making his way round each tent and waking everyone so that they could all enjoy this experience together. Clarke had been one of the first to step outside, gingerly making her way across the white ground. Bellamy had emerged from his tent moments later. They stood now side by side, in awe of this strange and beautiful new world. It was magical.

Clarke glanced up at Bellamy, and saw that his (surprisingly long) eyelashes had caught a few snowflakes. She grinned.

He smirked back. “What’s so funny, princess?”

“Nothing, I just…this isn't like I imagined it would be.”

“Snow?” Bellamy shrugged. “It’s just frozen water, right?”

Clarke shook her head. “Being on the ground, I mean.”

Bellamy’s eyes lingered on her for a moment, then he turned his face up to the sky. “Yeah, me neither.”

The time they’d spent on Earth so far had been eventful, to say the least. There had been injuries, arguments, a near coup, and a few lives lost to the perils of the ground. They hadn't even known the grounders had existed before arriving, but they’d successfully brokered at least a temporary peace with them. Clarke knew that Bellamy was as uneasy as she was about the peace lasting more than a few days. They’d met with Raven just last night to discuss building ammunition, and they had a plan, but they knew their chance of defeating an actual army wasn’t great. They hadn't explicitly said as much, but Clarke wasn't kidding herself.

She’d seen the fear in Bellamy’s eyes too. But now, as she gazed up at him, she saw something else, something unfamiliar both to her experience in the ark and on the ground: joy. His expression brought cheer to her own heart. She almost forgot about the daily threats to their survival as she stood there next to him, hands outstretched, staring up at the blinding white sky. She closed her eyes. She could hear the laughter and cheers of the others around the camp as they enjoyed the first snowfall of their lives as well.

“This is amazing,” Clarke whispered.

“Yeah, it is,” he replied in a low voice.

Clarke heard soft crunch of snow next to her. She opened her eyes to see that Bellamy had stepped closer. He was staring down at her, brown eyes wide but a smile tugging at his mouth.

“You know you’re alright, princess?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “You’re just saying that because we might die tomorrow.”

Bellamy grinned. “Not just, but it doesn't hurt.” He took her hand, tentatively at first, but when he saw her smile in response he pulled her towards him. With one hand in her hair and the other cupping her jaw, he tilted her face up and kissed her.

Kissing Bellamy nearly made Clarke forget where she was. She leaned into him, her lips curving into a wider smile as she anchored her hands on his chest. He reciprocated by wrapping an arm round her waist. 

Suddenly, Clarke felt a cold wetness hit the back of her neck. She yelled Bellamy’s hands tightened on her hips as she whipped her head round to see the cause of their attack. 

Monty was standing on the other side of the clearing, wearing a shit eating grin. He had clearly been the one to lob the snowball. Behind him stood Jasper, Harper, and Monroe. Clarke made eye contact with Bellamy. He was laughing, and looking happier than she’d ever seen him. She had no fear he’d be on her side in this battle.

“You ready for this?” he asked, hand entwined in hers as he scoped out the competition.

“Ready,” Clarke replied, and then ducked down to make a snowball.


	13. Keep It Civil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from @lightcomingthroughthedarkness: "Merry Christmas to all, and to all-wait not you, I don't like you."

“Can you keep the bickering with Clarke to a minimum, please?”

“What do you mean?” Bellamy replied, poking his head into the kitchen where Monty and Nate were finishing up the dishes.

“You know what he means,” Miller replied in a condescending tone, making eye contact with his boyfriend. “You and Clarke are getting pretty annoying, man. Just try and keep it civil for the rest of us.”

“She’s the one who starts it all the time,” Bellamy muttered, turning on the oven light to check the last batch of cookies.

“Yeah, ok, but can’t you just be the bigger person?” Monty asked, setting the last pot on the dry rack.

“Sure, I’ll try,” Bellamy conceded.

He’d arrived early to get the cookies started for the party. It was their third annual Christmas party as a group (since Monty and Nate had gotten together, actually), and expectations were high. It was always a highlight of the season.

Harper, Monroe, and Jasper were next to arrive, then Murphy and Emori. Clarke arrived last, along with Raven and Wells.

“Merry Christmas to all,” Clarke announced cheerfully as she removed her coat and scarf, eye lighting on Bellamy almost immediately. “Correction, Merry Christmas to everyone except Bellamy, my bad.”

Feeling Monty’s gaze on him, Bellamy just rolled his eyes and greeted the others.

“You feeling alright, Blake?” Clarke teased, handing Nate a bottle of wine and sidling over to Bellamy.

“Fine,” he replied, glaring down at her but keeping a smile plastered to his face.

Clarke shrugged and pushed past him to the kitchen. “Who the fuck baked so many cookies?”

“Bellamy did,” Murphy answered, handing her a cup of punch.

“You really need to get laid,” Clarke called back to Bellamy, mouth full of snickerdoodle.

Murphy and Emori laughed, and Bellamy just rolled his eyes.

It was after a few rounds of Kings that the group collectively realized they were running out of booze.

“Bellamy, you’re the only one who’s still sober,” Wells said. “You go.”

“Take Clarke with you,” Raven added, pushing her friend off the couch as Clarke protested. “She needs some fresh air or she’s gonna get drunk faster than the rest of us. Shut up, you know you’re a lightweight.”

“Fine,” Clarke huffed, picking herself off the floor as the rest of the group went back to their game.

She grabbed her coat and followed Bellamy out the door.

They had rounded the corner of building heading towards the parking lot when Clarke grabbed Bellamy’s hand and leaned into him. “You think they’re still buying it?”

Bellamy laughed and swooped in for a kiss. “Yeah, they’re still buying it. Monty asked me if we could stop arguing so much earlier. That’s why I toned it down a bit.”

“I thought that was weird,” Clarke agreed, as he pressed her against the wall and began to plant kisses on her neck. “I didn’t really know what to do in public other than fight with you.”

Bellamy pulled back, grinning. “So, we’re just supposed to keep this a secret forever, then?”

“No, not forever,” Clarke pulled him back towards her, “Just a little bit longer.”

“I don’t even remember how this started, or why we’re keeping out a secret,” Bellamy admitted, suddenly serious.

Clarke rolled her eyes. “I’m really hot, you were into me, we started making out one day, the rest is history.”

Bellamy laughed, “Oh, right, that’s it…how could I forget…and the secrecy?”

“Well, you have to admit,” Clarke replied, drumming her fingertips on his chest, “it’s pretty fun this way.”

“It’s alright,” Bellamy teased, running his fingers through his hair and leaning back, one hand still curved round her hip.

Clarke’s blue eyes sparkled up at him. “Yeah, it’s alright. Come on, we’ve got to get back with the booze soon or they’ll be suspicious.”

Bellamy dropped one last kiss on her nose. “You’re right, as usual.”

“God, you’re affectionate today. Get it all out before we’re in public again.”

“Well, in that case,” Bellamy moved to whisper in her ear, “you look really fucking beautiful right now.”

Clarke grinned. “You’re much too sappy for how sober you are. Come on, let’s go.”

They rounded the building a few feet from each other, just in case anyone caught a glimpse of them from the apartment window.

After reaching their destination, they made out a little in the car, then returned to the apartment with beer and whiskey in tow.

Before long, the evening was winding down and it was time to start the annual Christmas movie (Die Hard, naturally). Everyone settled down in the living room. Bellamy ended up sitting on the ground right in front on Clarke, who was cuddled into the corner of the couch. 

It may have been the alcohol, or the festive spirit of the occasion, or something else altogether, but at some point during the John McClane’s escapades Clarke began to absentmindedly wind her fingers in Bellamy’s curls. He unfortunately didn’t react as quickly as Jasper, who yelped, jumped up from his seat between Clarke and Raven, and began to furiously point.

“You! You and Bellamy! YOU AND BELLAMY!”

Clarke snatched her hand back but it was too late. Bellamy glanced up at her. The whole room was staring at them, waiting. Bellamy frowned. He was having a little trouble reading her face.

Monty paused the movie. “Are you two a thing, or something? What’s going on?”

Clarke opened her mouth but no sound came out. Bellamy just shook his head and slid up to the seat Jasper had vacated, wrapping his arm around her.

“Yeah, we’re a thing, everybody keep your pants on.”

“You’ve been having sex?” Jasper yelled, and the others broke out into scattered laughter.

“I knew it!!” Raven nudged Wells. “How long?” 

“A few months,” Bellamy replied.

“Why the secrecy?” Miller asked. “You know none of us except Jasper really give a shit.”

“It was kinda…fun.” Clarke finally spoke.

“You can still have fun now that we all know about it,” Wells pointed out.

Bellamy chuckled and pressed a kiss to Clarke’s forehead. “Definitely.”

“Ugh, that’s gross, get a room,” said Murphy.

“You and Emori make out in front of everyone all the time,” Monty pointed out, “I’ve walked in on you two practically having sex in my kitchen. Twice.”

“That’s different,” Murphy replied. “We’re in love.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes and pulled Clarke a little closer. “Can we get back to the movie, please?”

Monty nodded and pressed play on the remote. Everyone slowly turned their attention back to the television.

“You know,” Bellamy whispered, “As much as I’m going to miss fighting with you, I’m pretty ok with our secret getting out.”

Clarke just smiled and curled into him. “Yeah, me too, actually.”

“Ugh, they’re being cutesy,” Jasper wailed from his new seat on the floor. “I don’t like it, go back to fighting.”

“Shhh, watch the movie,” Bellamy shoved Jasper with his foot. “You’ll get used to it.”


	14. Just a Little Friendly Competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coworkers, enemies to lovers, somewhat bake off inspired :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for @bellamyblakesfreckles

Every year since joining Kane, Trikru & Associates, Clarke had won the office holiday bake off. And every year, she had won it with a new and more complicated recipe. It’s not like there had been much competition the first three years she’d worked there, but still. It had given her a sense of accomplishment outside her professional triumphs. She’d made junior partner quickly, and had one of the best win/loss records in the office. But the cookie contest still appealed to her competitive side. It was nice to know she could win that too. Then, Bellamy Blake joined the firm.

The first year, she’d been sure he’d joined the contest as a gag. Kane had brought him on as junior partner just a few months prior, and Bellamy hadn’t exactly seemed like the Paul Hollywood type. But somehow his simple chocolate chip cookie recipe had been the senior partners’ favorite. Beginner’s luck, Clarke told herself. And maybe her spiced raspberry linzer cookies that year weren’t their cup of tea. She wasn’t a natural, true, but she could follow a damn recipe with precision, and she understood the chemistry involved better than the average home baker. The prize, after all, was more than office prestige. The winner got to determine what charity would receive the end of year donation from the firm, which was nothing if not a chance to impress her values on the senior partners.

The next year, he’d faced off against her with the same recipe. Again, Bellamy’s cookies had taken the win, this time over her gingerbread cookies (she’d candied the ginger herself!). Clarke started to think that maybe there was more to Bellamy Blake than met the eye. They worked in different departments, he in family law and she in civil litigation. She’d initially written him off as an asshole who’d gotten by on good looks and charm, and she was pretty sure he’d written her off as a spoiled rich girl who got the job because her parents were close with Marcus Kane. But over the past year and a half, she’d watched him rise in Kane’s esteem until he was taking second chair on half his cases. It was definitely not just beginner’s luck.

In another life, they might have been friends, maybe even dated. He was smart, kind, and dedicated to his job. All admirable qualities. Raven said the sexual tension between the two of them was palpable. And Clarke had to admit she’d always found him attractive. There was just the small matter of him being out to get her.

Anyway, this year she wasn’t going down without a fight. She decided to try something different. Instead of trying to impress the judges with a new and even more involved recipe, she’d found her grandmother’s sugar cookie recipe in a box at her parents’ house. That was in January. She began making test batches the very next day. By early December, she had the recipe perfected without a doubt. The day before the contest, she rolled the dough out carefully, making sure each cookie would cook evenly, and watched each tray bake from across the kitchen, hands gripped round a mug of coffee. She didn’t overdo it with decoration this year, just a dusting of sanding sugar should do the trick. She tried one as they were cooling and smiled. Absolutely perfect. Bellamy Blake’s chocolate chip cookies didn’t stand a chance.

The next day, she arrived at work and left her Tupperware of identically perfect sugar cookies in the break room. Bellamy’s submission was already there, cookies stacked haphazardly in a ziplock bag. Clarke just rolled her eyes. Only a few more hours until she unseated the reigning champion.

“You ready to lose again, Griffin?” Bellamy called from his door as she made her way to her own office.

Clarke smiled smugly and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Awfully cocky for a guy who’s about to have his ass handed to him.”

Bellamy chuckled. “When I beat you for the third time, I’ll finally tell you what you’re doing wrong.”

Clarke just rolled her eyes.

Most of the firm were taking a half day in anticipation of the holiday weekend, so the tasting took place at lunch. The senior partners (Marcus Kane, Indra Trikru, and Charles Pike) were seated at the break room table, mock solemnity hanging in the air. There were four total submissions: Harper McIntyre and John Murphy in addition to Bellamy and Clarke. Harper’s shortbread was nothing to write home about, and Murphy’s snickerdoodles were just adequate. Clarke’s cookies were next up. She tried not to show how nervous she was as she watched all three partners take a bite.

Bellamy’s submission was last. They all seemed quite as happy with it as they had in previous years. Clarke felt her heart beat faster as the anticipation grew increased. She’d made her case before some of the most prestigious judges on the East Coast, but some this moment was more thrilling.

The senior partners took a moment to confer, then broke and turned back to the waiting crowd.

“One of the more interesting contests we’ve seen recently,” Pike began, “So interesting, we find ourselves in an unprecedented situation.”

Clarke glanced over at Bellamy. He seemed unmoved. Did this mean neither of them had won?

“We have a tie,” Indra continued. “Between Clarke Griffin and our reigning champion Bellamy Blake.”

“A tie?” Clarke asked. “What does that mean?” She glanced over at Bellamy to see he’d crossed his arms over his chest and was staring at her with an amused expression.

“Settle it by arm wrestling?” Bellamy suggested.

Clarke pursed her lips. “Very funny. Seriously, who gets to pick the charity this year?”

“I’ll leave that to the two of you to determine,” Marcus answered, standing and making his way towards the door. “Everyone be sure to take a few cookies with you, and happy holidays! Bellamy, Clarke, I’ll need your answer by Wednesday.”

“You can choose, if it means so much to you.” Bellamy had taken a seat on the kitchenette counter next to the remaining cookies as the rest of the staff vacated the break room.

Clarke scowled. “That’s no good, you just conceding to me.”

“Well, it’s the best you’re going to get, I think,” Bellamy chuckled. He reached for one of her leftover cookies and took a bite. “Hey, you figured it out!”

“Figured what out?” Clarke spat. “I’ve always been a fine baker.”

“Yeah, but you’ve always been trying too hard. Your previous submissions were good, but these are great. Family recipe?”

Clarke narrowed her eyes. “How did you know that?”

Bellamy shrugged and finished off the rest of the cookie. “Just a hunch. Mine’s a family recipe too. I made them every Christmas growing up, ever since I can remember.”

An image of a much younger Bellamy clad in a brightly colored apron, with flour on his chubby cheeks flashed through Clarke’s mind but she quickly dismissed it.

“You know,” Bellamy continued, “I don’t think you’ve ever actually tried my cookies.”

Clarke frowned. “They’re just chocolate chip cookies, how good can they be?”

“Trust me.” He held the plate out and she accepted.

Clarke took a bite and it virtually melted in her mouth. “Fuck…” she whispered, almost involuntarily. “That’s a really good cookie.”

“Told you!” Bellamy crowed. “There’s a reason I beat you the past two years.”

“Fine, maybe…” Clarke admitted. She leaned back against the counter, her shoulder nearly touching his thigh, and took another bite. “What’s your secret? It can’t just be that it’s a family recipe, that’s insane.”

“High quality chocolate, chilling the dough 24 hours before baking, and of course my undeniable desire to get to know the most badass junior partner in the firm better.”

His deadpan delivery didn’t land on her at first, and she nearly choked on a mouthful of cookie when she caught his meaning.

“There, there,” he patted her gently on the back, grinning down at her. “You really didn’t know?”

Clarke shook her head, still coughing. Bellamy hopped down and filled her a glass with water from the tap.

“My first day here Raven told me not to mess with you and your cookie completion.”

“So you decided to do just that,” Clarke replied, finally able to get a word out.

Bellamy grinned. “Yeah. I figured it would be one way to get myself on your radar. Anyway, I had fun. Didn’t you?”

“I did,” Clarke admitted. “It was nice to have a little friendly competition, I guess.”

“Friendly?” Bellamy raised his eyebrows. “I guess you starting the rumor that I was using prepackaged cookie dough was all in good fun?”

Clarke giggled despite herself. “Oh, that finally got back to you?”

“Yes, you asshole,” he joked.

“Just trying to get ahead. My competitive spirit knows no bounds.”

“Yeah,” Bellamy agreed, giving her a look that put her stomach in knots. “You’re something else.”

“Well,” Clarke asked, desperately trying to distract herself from the very unprofessional thoughts currently on her mind, “how do you suggest we settle this thing?”

“Why don’t we get a drink later and hash it out?” Bellamy suggested casually.

Clarke considered. There was no official rule about inter-office relationships at Kane, Trikru, & Associates. And…it was just a drink.

“Oh, by the way,” Bellamy continued. “I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to ask you out for almost a year now. I figure if I can’t say it at Christmas, there’s no hope for me. So…will you go on a date with me, Clarke Griffin?”

A smile dawned on Clarke’s face as she realized how nervous Bellamy actually was. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, and his expression was almost bashful as he waited for her reply.

“You’ve got a unique way of showing interest in a person.” Clarke replied.

A slight blush spread over his face. “You’re a unique person.”

Clarke bit her lip. “Alright…I’ve got to finish up the Henderson brief for Indra, but I should be free around 4:00.”

Bellamy grinned. “That’s a yes, then?”

“On one condition.”

“Anything.”

“I’m buying. I need to alleviate my conscience over that rumor I started.”

“I don’t believe you feel guilty about that for a second,” Bellamy replied. “But alright.”

“Anyway, ties are bullshit,” Clarke continued over drinks later. “We’re going to have to hold our own bake off to determine the true winner.”

“I already told you you could pick the charity.”

“Yes, but it’s not about that. Someone needs to win outright.”

“I bet you’ve got a nice kitchen in your uptown apartment,” said Bellamy innocently, “why don’t we just have ourselves a little contest tomorrow morning?”

“Are you inviting yourself to stay over?” Clarke asked, with mock outrage.

“I’ve been trying to get a drink with you for over a year,” Bellamy pointed out. “Just want to make up for lost time.”

“We’ll see how the rest of the night goes,” Clarke replied slyly as she fished the cherry out of her Manhattan with the skewer. She already knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!!


	15. Christmas Favor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Museum Curator!Bellamy and Art Teacher/Single Mom!Clarke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for @bethanyactually

Bellamy couldn’t believe it. It was two days before Christmas, and his ex girlfriend was really calling in a favor with him.

He and Gina had broken up amicably, and given that they had been friends before they started dating, they remained on good terms. Sure, it might look a little weird from the outside, but they still got along very well, so he frankly didn’t care how it looked. The thing with staying friends with your ex was that the line between what you’d do for your friend and what you’d do for a girl you used to sleep with were somewhat blurred. But Gina was sweet, and had always been much too good for him, so he didn’t mind.

Funny thing was, it wasn’t even a favor for Gina. It was a favor for Gina’s girlfriend’s best friend. Two days before Christmas.

“I don’t understand,” Bellamy ran a hand over his eyes and adjusted the phone between his shoulder and ear. “You need me to keep the museum open late on Christmas Eve just because a friend of Raven’s is a shitty mom and forgot to book a tour in time?”

Gina sighed deeply on the other end of the line. She knew Bellamy got a little testy when he was tired, and in his defense he’d been working overtime lately to get a newly bequeathed collection ready for exhibit by the new year. “You don’t have to stay open late, not to the public anyway. I know in the past you’ve done after hours events for school aged kids. I was hoping you could help Clarke out, as a personal favor to Raven. It’s a hard time of year for Madi, and she missed out on the school field trip earlier in the year because she was sick, and Clarke really wants to make it a fun day for her. You’re really going to like them both, I promise. ”

“Fine,” Bellamy replied, grimacing at his own inability to say no. “But I hope you know that playing the kid card with me is cheating.”

Gina laughed. “I know, I know. But when you meet them you’ll understand, I promise.”

“Whatever you say. How many people is it going to be?”

“Just four, including Clarke. There are a couple other kids in Madi’s class that didn’t make the trip either.”

Bellamy glanced up to see Maya gesturing at him from the other side of his office door. “Sounds fine. I gotta go, Gina. Email me the details, ok?”

“Thanks again, Bellamy. You’re a good guy for doing this.”

“Yeah, ok. You owe me one.”

“Clarke owes you one,” Gina said, and hung up.

Maya had a large stack of holiday cards for him to sign. She had been working as the curatorial assistant since before Bellamy had been hired. Her previous boss had never given her any credit, but when Bellamy replaced him he was happy to discover she was smart, capable, and extremely reliable. They worked well together, and Bellamy gradually gave her more and more responsibility. It was a small museum, containing a few privately owned collections, and often times the curators would be responsible for assisting with docent duties. Maya had been a little reserved at first, less used to talking in front of large groups that Bellamy was, but she became more comfortable as time wore on. This would be a good opportunity for her to take the lead on a full museum tour.

At closing time, Bellamy sent the rest of the staff home, and he got to work on some informational packets for the kids while Maya made paper snowflakes to decorate the entryway.

“You ready to give your first full museum tour?” Bellamy asked, as he checked his watch. “They should be here soon.”

Maya smiled. “Yeah, thanks. Hopefully they don’t die of boredom.”

“You’ll do great,” Bellamy reassured her. “Besides, this is going to help me lobby the board to get you the raise you deserve in January.”

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Maya agreed. “They just raised our rent, but Jasper and I can’t really afford to move anywhere else at the moment.”

Bellamy nodded. “I know the feeling. But I’ll make it happen for you, I promise.”

“Thanks. I think that’s them!”

Three middle schoolers and the woman Bellamy presumed was Clarke joined them in the lobby. Everyone’s cheeks were red and their eyes watering from the cold wind. The woman pulled off her gloves and stepped forward to greet them.

“Hi, I’m Clarke Griffin,” she shook hands with both of them, “Thanks so much for doing this, we appreciate it so much. I know it was very late notice. We’re all excited, aren’t we kids?”

The kids nodded, with the exception of the dark haired girl who stuck by Clarke’s side. She was staring at the vaulted lobby ceiling with wide eyes.

Clarke placed a gentle hand on the dark haired girl’s shoulder. “This is Madi, Reese, and Aden.”

“Hi everyone,” Maya’s warm smile seemed to put everyone at ease. “Are you ready to get started?”

Madi’s eyes lit up with fascination as she spied an elaborate tapestry hanging across the way. Bellamy hid a smile. She looked just like Octavia had at that age.

“We’re going to start with the ancient Roman collection since that’s on this floor. Follow me, this way.” Maya led the kids into the next room. Bellamy hung back slightly, just close enough to observe Maya’s technique. Clarke hung back as well.

Clarke Griffin wasn’t exactly what he had expected. Raven had all sorts of cool and interesting friends with all sorts of varied backgrounds, but Clarke seemed different. Most of their friends were still in their early thirties and didn’t have kids yet, but Clarke seemed about that age yet she had a middle schooler. Pretty unusual. He wondered what the story was there. Her eyes were bright blue and her cheeks still flushed from the cold. She was certainly much prettier than he had anticipated as well, but he was sure that had nothing to do with Gina’s assurance they would get along.

“So, you and Gina used to date, huh?” Clarke asked casually, glancing over at him and making him aware that he was sort of staring.  

“Yeah, we broke up a while ago, but we stayed friends.” Bellamy shifted on his feet a little awkwardly. Was she fishing, or just making conversation, he wondered?

“Clearly you’re still on good terms if she talked you into doing this,” Clarke said in a teasing tone. “Thanks again, you really have no idea how much this means to me and Madi.”

“It’s no problem. This some sort of special Christmas Eve tradition in your family?” It was his turn to fish.

“Not really.” Clarke shook her head, eyes fixed on Madi from across the room. “We’re sort of a new family, actually. I was fostering Madi for the past year, and I just officially adopted her a few weeks ago. Her birth mom overdosed,” she continued in a low voice, “on Christmas four years ago. It’s always a really hard season for her, and she was really bummed she missed the field trip, so this was kind of a hail Mary attempt to salvage the end of her year.” She bit her lip. “Sorry, that was all kind of personal. I’m just not sure it’s working.”

Bellamy smiled gently. “I think it’s probably working more than you think.” The kids were currently laughing at a joke Maya had just told. “They all seem to be having a good time.”

Clarke sighed with relied. “You really have no idea how good that is to see. Madi’s such a loner. She talks to the doorman in our building and Raven, those are the only people she’s connected with since moving in with me. I’ve really been trying to make sure she has some friends her own age.”

Bellamy chuckled. “Well, in your daughter’s defense, being a doorman always fascinated me as a kid. Plus, Raven is probably the most badass person on the planet.”

Clarke smiled brightly. “She really is. She told me you didn’t have Christmas Eve plans, by the way, or I never would have presumed to have Gina ask. I hope we’re not ruining your evening.”

“No plans, Raven was right. My sister lives in California with her husband and kids, I’ll see them around New Years. We’ve never really had any Christmas traditions, my mom always worked too much this time of year.”

Clarke nodded sympathetically. Her parents, it turned out, had always worked too much around the holidays too. So when she got Madi, she had no idea how to make the holidays special.

Maya led them into the next exhibit, and the kids perked up as she explained with enthisuasm the various types of ancient weaponry and their uses. Clarke and Bellamy continued to get to know each other.

He and Clarke had a lot in common, it turned out. They may have grown up in different parts of the city, but they both suffered the loss of a parent in high school and ended up putting themselves through college (Bellamy because he had to, and Clarke because she felt compelled to make her own way). They’d finished grad school just a year apart, and she’d been teaching fine arts to high school kids ever since. She’d been a foster parent for a few years and with a few kids before Madi, but Madi was special and Clarke adopted her as soon as she could. It hadn’t been easy, but they were slowly make progress. They made a good team, Clarke said.

Madi was a good kid. Understandably a little apprehensive, but she tried hard in school, even though most subjects were difficult for her. She’d been in danger of falling a grade behind, but Clarke had put in the time with her the past year and she was solidly in the middle of the class now. Clarke relayed it with such pride, Bellamy couldn’t help but smile. Gina had been right. He liked Madi and Clarke a lot.

The tour wrapped up just as Bellamy was gearing up to ask Clarke if she was single. Honestly, he never would have gotten up the nerve to actually do it, but he pretended that he would have if the timing had been better. It was for the best, he told himself. Clarke had a lot going on, and it was Christmas, and he didn’t want to impose.

The other kids parents arrived to pick them up, and Maya headed home to show Jasper the concert tickets Bellamy had given them as an end of year gift.

From the lobby door, they could see it had just started snowing. Madi lingered for a minute in front of the tapestry that had caught her eye earlier. “That was fun, right?” Clarke asked, trying to gauge her daughter’s reaction. She’d given Maya a hug goodbye, which by Clarke’s expression seemed like a big step.

Madi nodded, turning back to the adults. “I had fun. Thanks, Bellamy.” She glanced up at Clarke. “Can we go home now?”

Clarke smiled. “Sure thing, kid.” She adjusted Madi’s hat affectionately. “Thanks again, Bellamy.”

“No problem. Merry Christmas. I’m sure I’ll see you both around sometime.”

Clarke smiled. “We’d like that. Merry Christmas.”

Before setting the alarms, Bellamy stopped by his office to find a poster of the tapestry that had caught Madi’s eye. He didn’t know if he’d see them again soon, or at all, but he thought he could get Clarke’s address from Raven and maybe mail it to them. He planned to text Raven later that week.

Raven, of course, preempted that. Her text message woke him up Christmas morning.

_R: Merry Christmas. You’re coming over for dinner tonight. Invite Maya and her boyfriend too. We’re going to watch cheesy Christmas movies and make hot chocolate and all that dumb shit._

_B:  Sounds like you won’t take no for an answer. Need me to bring anything?_

_R: Just yourself. And maybe dessert, if you can whip something up. Clarke likes chocolate._

_B: You’re not as smooth as you think you are, Reyes._

_R: Hmmm sounds fake. See you at 6:00._

Bellamy grinned and laid back on his pillows. He had a feeling this would be his most memorable Christmas yet.


	16. Emergency Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> college au, secret relationship, you know the drill :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for @griffinblake

Clarke eased into consciousness with only vague memories of the night before—Jasper’s annual holiday party, dancing with Raven, teasing Wells about his spectacularly ugly Christmas sweater. Her eyes were shut tight against the inevitable, but she suddenly realized how late it must be and began to search frantically for her phone, squinting into the sunlight. She rolled over as she groped the bedsheets and discovered she was not alone. Suddenly she was was very much awake and very much laying half naked in bed with Bellamy Blake. Goddamit, not again.

Her frantic movements must have woken Bellamy. He groaned and rolled over. His eyelids fluttered open reluctantly, and when he realized where he was, he frowned.

“This isn’t my bed…” he said slowly.

“I cant believe they gave you a scholarship here,” Clarke retorted, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“I just mean…we usually hook up in my bed.”

“Yeah, that’s because you live alone, and I live with roommates.”

Bellamy shrugged and reached for the pair of glasses on the nightstand. As he leaned over, the sheets pooled just above his hips, exposing much too much of him for peace of mind.

“Hey, are you naked?” Clarke asked accusingly.

Bellamy made a show of peeking under the covers, and Clarke rolled her eyes. “No, I’ve got boxers on.” He looked her over. “That’s my shirt.”

“Yeah, well I’m going to keep it on for now, if you don’t mind.”

“Whatever,” Bellamy said casually. “But you can’t keep stealing my clothes and expect no one to catch on to this.”

Clarke ignored him. “What the hell happened last night? I don’t remember anything after Raven left…”

“I remember opening that last bottle of wine.” Bellamy stretched and ran and hand through his hair, practically shoving his bicep distractingly into Clarke’s face.

“The emergency wine? We drank the emergency wine?” Clarke yelped. That didn’t bode well. She, Raven, and Harper had managed to go almost 2 years in that house without drinking the last bottle of wine. It was a symbol that however bad things got, they always had that to fall back on. They really must have been on a bender last night. “Oh!” She sat up straight as she remembered another detail, “You wanted to play a drinking game with Miller!”

“Oh my god.” Bellamy buried his head in his hands. “No wonder we got blackout drunk.”

Clarke sighed and laid back against her pillow. “This is your fault, Blake…”

“Hey, um…” Bellamy began awkwardly, blushing slightly, “Did anything happen? I only ask because usually when we wake up bed together half naked…”

“I honestly don’t know,” Clarke said, worrying her brow. “I mean, we definitely didn’t have sex last night, but I don’t remember if we made out in front of anyone. I don’t think we did…”

Bellamy’s eyebrow quirked up. “You sure about that?”

“Do you have a million missed text messages from Raven and Jasper?”

Bellamy reached for his phone. “Nope. You’re right, we must have kept it on lock down. Surprising.”

“Why do you say that?” Clarke replied, then before he could answer, “Wow, my head is killing me….how much wine did we drink?”

“Well, you went straight to tequila if I remember correctly.”

“Fuck,” Clarke held her hands to her head. “I did, didn’t I? What a stupid thing to do.”

“I think I told you that at the time.”

“Shut up,” Clarke murmured through her hands, “You’re not helping.”

“Whatever,” he replied easily, running a hand over her back. “It’s not like we haven’t ended up in bed together before.”

“Yes,” Clarke admitted, tensing up a little at his touch, “but we were always careful before.”

Bellamy frowned and took his hand back. “I don’t know why you care so much if people find out.” He moved to rest his back against the headboard, and the increased distance between them felt deliberate.

“It’s not that, it’s just…” Clarke glanced up, frowning, “it’s kind of a big deal.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Bellamy muttered, flushing slightly and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Is doesn’t?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” It was Clarke’s turn to get defensive. “I just…we’ve been spending a lot of time together, even if we we’re keeping this part between us…I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“You don’t want me to get the wrong idea?” Bellamy spat back, “You’re the one who crashes at my apartment three nights a week, and texts me constantly, and steals my clothes!”

Clarke’s jaw dropped. “I’m sorry! If this is all too much for you, we can go back to just being friends.”

Bellamy stood up, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly, and began to pick up discarded items of clothing from around the room. “Ok, Clarke, whatever. We can go back to being just friends, whatever that means. Whatever you want. Whatever.”

Clarke glared at him, feeling the tears pricking at her eyes. “Ok, fine!”

Bellamy glared back at her, pulling his jeans up to his hips, belt buckle jangling aggressively. “Goddamit, Clarke, can’t you just admit you like me back?”

“What?” Clarke croaked.

“I like you. I think I’ve been pretty damn clear about that. It was your idea to keep this whole thing a secret, but you obviously have some sort of feelings about it too!”

The first tear fell, and the exasperation drained from Bellamy’s face. “Why are you doing the sad puppy dog thing, Clarke? You know I can’t handle the sad puppy dog thing.”

“I’m not doing a puppy dog thing,” Clarke yelled, hot tears now running freely down her face. “Go to hell, Bellamy Blake.”

His eyes widened. “Shit, you’re really upset. I thought…fuck, I’m so sorry Clarke.” He joined her again on the bed, facing her with a horrified expression, one hand awkwardly massaging her shoulder.

“I’m fine,” she replied stiffly, glaring up at him as she wiped the tears from her face. “I’m just hungover and allergic to jerks!”

A smile played at the corner of his mouth, and she could see him relax a little.

“I’m really sorry,” he repeated. “I was being a dick, you’re right. Can we just talk about this though?”

“About what?”

“About my feelings being possibly reciprocated in some form or another?” he replied gently.

Clarke sighed. “Your feelings have been reciprocated the whole damn time, you idiot. I didn’t think I’d have to spell it out for you.”

“Ok, here’s a tip,” Bellamy teased, “Unless we’re in Latin class, you have to spell it out for me.”

Clarke choked back a laugh. “Shut up. I’m a much better translator than you, anyway.”

He stroked her hair, eyes alight with mischief. “I’m going to let you have that one today because you’re very upset.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“Not to be too forward, but…what does this mean?” Bellamy asked, a blush rising to his cheeks yet again.

“It means I like you back, you asshole.”

A blinding grin overtook Bellamy’s face. “Cool, ok. Can I have my shirt back now?”

“Nope.” Clarke stuck her chin in the air. “You’ve forfeited the right to all clothing in my bedroom from this day forward. I’m going to have confiscate those pants too.”

Bellamy laughed. “How am I going to go get us breakfast if I’m not wearing pants?”

“Fair point…you can keep them for now. But only because I’m starving.”

“I know,” he replied, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Ugh, are you going to be all sappy now that we’re dating?” Clarke groaned.

Bellamy’s grin intensified. “Wow, dating. Yeah, since we’re dating now, you bet your ass I’m going to be sappy.”

Clarke pulled him into a surprisingly fierce hug.

“Hey, you sure you’re ok?” he asked, leaning back slightly to try and look at her face.

“I’m fine.” Her voice was muffled in his chest. “I can hug you, we’re dating. Shut up.”

“I’ve been waiting months to hear you say that.”

“I tell you to shut up all the time.”

“Yeah, but now I know it means ‘I like you.’”

Clarke just laughed. He wasn’t wrong.


	17. Yippee Ki-Yay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by everyone's favorite holiday movie: the 100 x Die Hard for @sly2o :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended this year's fills on the weirdest note possible lol. Happy New Year!

It was not how Bellamy Blake had expected his day to go, to say the least. He was supposed to get in, get Clarke, and get out. In his opinion, Monty, Jasper and the rest of them had overstayed their welcome as well, but they weren’t Clarke. Clarke couldn’t be wasting time being bribed with art supplies. They had a camp to protect, and if he was going to be looped into that he sure as hell wasn’t going to to it without Clarke. He didn’t trust the people at Mt. Weather, all eerie smiles and clean clothes. What use did they have for a couple dozen delinquent kids? He had a bad feeling about it all.

Bellamy and Clarke been talking since he’d been ushered into the guest quarters, and she’d finally agreed to come back with him. He’d just begrudgingly accepted her offer of a pair of new socks (the ones he was wearing were threadbare at best) when it happened. Gunshots in the main hall, kids screaming, and a troops of armed guards began to force the delinquents to evacuate their quarters. Apparently all of Bellamy’s worst fears about Mt. Weather were coming true.

Clarke hadn’t come back from getting him socks, and he knew she must be caught with the others. Bellamy had only a second to make a decision: stay and fight the armed guards who outnumbered him, or hide and work up a plan to rescue the rest of them. Since they’d taken his gun from him when he entered, he really didn’t have a choice, as much as he hated what he had to do.

He slipped to the back of the room and used a bunk bed to hoist himself up and into the vents. The feel of the cold metal against the soles of his feet reminded him he had taken off his shoes and socks. _Dammit, Clarke. Come up to Mt Weather, she said, we’ll eat some cake, have a few laughs._..

His next move was clear. Get a gun, and shoes if possible…but mostly a gun, and save the others. He made his way quietly through the stuffy ceiling corridor until he saw a lone guard standing watch in the hallway below. Taking him out was easy. He had two guns and a knife on him, that was pretty good luck. His shoes, however, were far too small for Bellamy’s feet. Whatever, hopefully the next guard he encountered would be more his size. Pulling himself back in the vents, his shirt caught on a sharp piece of metal and tore. He pulled it off. He’d move faster without it.

Clad now in only a pair of pants and an undershirt, he crawled though the vents until he could overhear Cage Wallace’s voice. He must be above the great hall. He could barely make the words out over the hum of the fans. Pulling himself closer in an army crawl, he made his way toward a grate which allowed him to see and not be seen.

The delinquents were broken up into small groups, each one monitored by an armed guard.

“You all must understand,” Cage was saying, “that we have no choice. The ground is our birthright, and your sacrifice will pave the way for us to claim it…”

Though the content of the speech chilled him, Bellamy involuntarily rolled his eyes. What a fucking asshole. Focusing his attention back on the group, he saw that Clarke had positioned herself as close to the door as possible, and from what he could tell was attempting to communicate with Monty using only eye movements. They were smart, but they wouldn’t find their way out of this alone. They were going to need more guns.

It seemed like they would all be there a while. Dr. Tsing was apparently preparing the lab with a few of her henchmen, but if Bellamy could take out the rest of the guards they would be in better shape.

Level two and three were easy. They hadn’t even heard him coming, padding along on bare feet in the shadows. Level four was where it started to get tricky. He wasn’t able to get to the guard before he was spotted and though he shot him midway through alerting the others, they now knew they weren’t alone.

He might as well use that to his advantage. Gripping the walkie that the guard had dropped, he could hear the guards on level one responding. He had to get back in the vent shafts.

Once he was there, he waited. It was kill or be killed now, and with the knowledge that every moment he lost Clarke and the others were closer to being tortured and killed he forced himself to conserve ammunition by taking out each guard with a single bullet.

They definitely knew he was a threat now. He hadn’t responded to the frantic queries from the remaining guards on the walkie, but suddenly he heard a calmer, creepier voice. Cage’s voice.

 _“I don’t know who you are, or what your plan is,”_ Cage’s voice crackled over the walkie, _“but I’d advise you to give up now. You’re vastly outnumbered, and if your plan is to save the hostages we’re holding, it’s in your interest to do as I say.”_

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say,” Bellamy replied, keeping an eye out for any guards who might overhear him. “I’ve taken out a dozen of your men already, and I’ll take out another dozen with one arm behind my back. You don’t know who I am, or where I am, so good luck.”

“Who are you?” Cage sputtered into the radio.

“I’m a fly in the ointment,” Bellamy replied, scoping out his surroundings, “A monkey in the wrench, a pain in the ass.” He switched the walkie off and continued on until he reached the boiler room. There was some broken glass littered around the entire floor, though he couldn’t tell what it was from—looked like the guards in this area had left in a hurry, probably called away by Cage.

“What the fuck are you doing, Bellamy?” he muttered to himself. He sighed and regretted the fact that he still hadn’t made time to steal a pair of shoes. Gritting his teeth together against the pain as he stepped gingerly on the shards of glass, he made his way to the corridor on the other side. He wasn’t fucking around any more. He was getting Clarke. Now.

He heard the lift hum and moved into the shadows. An armed guard made his way into the hallway. “Welcome to the party, pal!” Bellamy whispered, and took the shot. The guard’s body slumped to the floor like all the others.

He crept quietly back to the main room, killing a few more guards on the way. One almost had him in a headlock at a point, and he was pretty damn grateful for the knife he’d found, which he quietly jammed between the fourth and fifth ribs. As he approached the room where the hostages were being kept, he calculated there couldn’t be more than a handful of armed guards left. It was a small military community, a few lone survivors from the Death Wave, they were lucky to have made it this far. Their luck was about to run out.

Bellamy had been tracking blood on the ground behind him since the boiler room. He had no interest in stealth any longer. He was going to get the others out of there, or die trying. He lurched into the doorway, gun at the ready, another pistol and an axe in his belt, to see that the kids were huddled in a corner of the room. Cage stood at the center, next to one of his guards who was holding a knife to Clarke’s throat. There were about ten more guards stationed around the room, menacingly holding weapons, clearly meant to keep the rest of the kids in check. Bellamy saw that Monty had a black eye and Miller a busted lip. They’d clearly been fighting back in his absence. They’d have to fight back again.

“Hi, honey,” he remarked sarcastically to Clarke, as he sized up the competition. He could see the determination in her eyes. They were doing this.

“How nice of you to join us, Mr. Blake,” Cage began. “As you can see, we have all of your friends in a rather compromised position. Would you care to surrender and spare us the trouble of killing you all?”

“No thanks,” Bellamy grunted. “How about you?”

Cage Wallace chuckled. “My good man, you don’t seem to understand that we have the high ground here.”

“I beg to differ,” Bellamy replied, and in a few quick movements he’d shot the guard holding Clarke, thrown a weapon to both Miller and Jasper, and helped them swarm the other guards. It was chaos in the hall, and he barely noticed at first he’d been shot in the shoulder. The pain didn’t feel as present as the pressure of Clarke’s fingers on his arm.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine. You should be more worried about my feet, it’s your fault I didn’t have my damn boots on.”

Clarke quickly turned round to face Cage, hand still on Bellamy’s arm, each training a weapon on his sniveling face.

Cage was half lying on the ground and Jasper stood above him, gun at the ready.

“I see you’ve got the high ground now,” Cage sneered, and Bellamy could see his teeth were covered in blood. Jasper must have clocked him in the mouth.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Clarke replied, and took a step closer. What happened next was so fast it was nearly a blur. Bellamy hardly saw Cage still had a gun before Jasper shot him. It was over. It was finally over.

The kids yelled and rushed up to congratulate him and Jasper and Clarke. The hall was filled with chaos again, but this time the tone was relief and happiness.

Bellamy turned back to Clarke, the wave of exhaustion finally hitting him. He gripped the wound on his shoulder. Clarke was already tearing off the hem of her own shirt as a makeshift bandage. His fingers brushed hers as she bound his wound. “Hey, you ready to get the hell out of here?”

Clarke sighed and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You have no idea.” Hand in hand, they led the others back to the surface and they made their way to the dropship.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr!](https://tracylorde.tumblr.com)


End file.
